PotC: Dead Man's Chest
by FantasyBard
Summary: With new enemies and adventures looming on the horizon, our old heroes will have to face challenges which they never dreamed of. And what happens when the greatest battles are found within? Willabeth, Jack/Marie, James/Emma.
1. Prologue: Across the Distance

Hello everyone. FantasyBard is back again with a brand-spanking new tale of swashbuckling, romance, and humor. This marks the first chapter of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest. Hopefully, you will all find this sequel as much fun as the original. As everyone who has read my sequel knows, this is going to be somewhat AU in places, basically, I am writing this story how I wished it had been done. There will be a few twists and turns and new characters. The original story will still be recognizable, but hopefully, these new little changes might make this story all the more fun to read.

For those who have not read my first Pirates story, you might want to read it before you begin on this one. However, this story is sort of explanatory as well. But on the other hand, I also don't mind my other stories getting the extra attention.

This story is rated T for violence, disturbing scenes, and some sensuality.

And finally, I own absolutely nothing, except for all of the Pirates DVDs, which I bought with my own money, so I can't be sued. HA HA! This story is written exclusively for entertainment purposes and I am not making any money off of it.

Now that we the preliminaries out of the way, on with the story, please enjoy the first two chapters of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest.

Prologue: Across the Distance

The blacksmiths' shop at Port Royal was unusually silent. Normally, in the middle of the day, it would be resounding with the sounds of hammering, sizzling, and the other sounds of the trade. However, it wasn't happening today, and with good reason. Today was no ordinary day; today William Turner was becoming a husband.

He had risen early the day, more from excitement than anything else. He hadn't even managed to get much sleep the night before. Who could sleep when the day he had dreamed of so many times was finally here? Not even the rain which was pouring down steadily from the grey skies above could dispel his euphoria. So, he and Elizabeth would get wet. It didn't matter at all to him, so long as he could call her his wife at the end of today, he would be more than content.

There was only one thing that could have made this day perfect though, and that would have been to have his sister there to share the triumph of this day with him.

Part of Will's thoughts had been with Marie a good deal during these past few days. Whenever the flurry of activity that would inevitably surround the marriage of the Governor's daughter had given him a moment of quiet to himself, he would find himself imagining how Marie would have reacted to the commotion and chaos of the last few days. No doubt she would have been in there with the quips and the jokes, but behind her humor, she have been beaming with pride. She had always believed that Will would see this day, had always thought that it was no less than what he deserved and needed. She had never liked how he had hid his feelings for Elizabeth, and no doubt she would have been happy to know that her brother would no longer be alone.

And, of course, she would have categorically refused to wear a dress, no matter how much she might have been cajoled. She had loathed the very concept of dresses and their impeding of her movements and breathing; just one more symbol of the repression that she believed was constantly being imposed on ever free spirit.

It had been over a year since he had seen Marie. The loss was sometimes hard for him to bear. After all, there had barely been a time when they had been growing up when they had been separated from each other. After the death of their mother, they had only had each other, and that dependence had forged a deep bond between the two siblings, one that no amount of passing time had been able to diminish.

However, he had come to realize that it had been necessary for Marie and him to be separated. It was for the best. Marie would certainly not have been happy for very much longer in Port Royal. Life here was safe, predictable, normal, all of which Marie most certainly was not. She would have gone to find her own way sooner or later, of that much he was now certain. The way she had ended up finding her own way, though, had been completely unexpected.

Will looked around him at the dusty gears, gleaming swords and mule which was standing contentedly off to one side. It had been more than a year since the forge had rung with the sound of clashing swords as he and Marie had crossed blades with Jack Sparrow, or as he insisted on being called, Captain Jack Sparrow. Will had had no idea that the sparks of contention between those two had actually been sparks of attraction. Will had eventually managed to figure out and accept the fact that Marie and Jack were in love and he hadn't done anything to stand in their way. In fact, he had actually pushed Marie to Jack, literally as well as figuratively.

Jack and Marie were actually very much alike. They both possessed a flair for getting themselves in trouble and than extracting themselves with their wits and trickery, plus a little good old fashioned dishonestly. They lived life on the edge and had a craving for adventure, freedom and danger that had drawn them together, only after a great deal of verbal sparring and denial had passed on both sides, of course.

But it was more than simply attraction. If Marie's letters were anything to be believed, they were both, at the risk of sounding silly, head over heels in love with other.

Will walked over to the forge and placed his hands on the two letters he had received from Marie during her absence. She had really had no opportunity to write more, but both letters had told him a great deal of Marie's mind. The first word of her he had gotten only a few weeks after she had left. It had contained only the brief message that she was safe and happy.

_I would tell you not to worry,_ she had written, _but I know you will, anyway. The one thing that I do ask is that you don't doubt your choice. You did the best thing for me, the best thing that you have ever done in my life._

The letter had contained no information on where things between her and Jack stood, but Will was guessing that she was only just beginning to figure out her own feelings on that score. Being in love with anyone was hard enough to understand, but when it just happened to be a person like Jack, it might very well seem like a hopeless muddle at first.

The next letter, which had come seven months before, painted a picture of a much freer and at peace Marie. She described with liveliness her new life, everything from living onboard the _Black Pearl_ to the first time that she had ever taken a life (there were some realities of the path she had chosen which could not be avoided). And she had finally spoken of Jack. Her words had left him in no doubt as to how happy she was with Jack.

_I know, Will, that you will have had doubts about Jack's affection for me. I have to admit that did, too, at first. But, there was really no need to worry. He waited two months for me, Will, until I was ready. I won't go any further on that score; I am sure you know what I am talking about. As for me, I never thought that it was possible to love so much._

And than, she had of course left the vein of sentimentality in the next paragraph.

_Jack has just gotten a glimpse of what I have just written. He is now telling me that I am reading too much into his displays of affection. Don't listen to him, though, Will. I think he is just jealous of you because you were the first man in my life. I love you, Will. Even across the distance that separates us, you're always in my heart._

Will found himself smiling as his eyes roamed over that last paragraph. "Where are you now, Marie?" he wondered aloud to himself, "in the deepest part of the Indian ocean? Just off the coast of Tripoli? Wherever you are there, you are no doubt harassing both Jack and the crew with your spirit." He laughed gently, as he gently caressed the letters, "You are here in my heart, as well, Marie. Somehow, I know that we will meeting against very soon."

Getting to his feet, he suddenly realized much to his embarrassment that he had spent a bit too long in the land of memory. If he didn't leave now, he could very well be late for his own wedding. He didn't really think that Elizabeth would be able to forgive him for that, no matter how much they loved each other.

Taking a deep breath, he started to reach for his overcoat, but then, he froze. Outside, he could hear a strange thumping noise, and it was most certainly not the rain. It was a regular, steady cadence, which bore a resemblance to one thing: marching, or to be more specific, the jogging of highly trained soldiers. And they were coming in his direction. Will began to have an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Why he did feel that an impending disaster was steadily coming nearer, an event that he was powerless to stop?

All of a sudden, he heard the shouting behind the door of the blacksmiths' shop. This was followed only a second later by the violent crunching and crashing of the door being kicked open and red-coated Marines, bayonets at the ready, flooded into the forge. Before Will had a chance to do anything, he was surrounded.

A man appeared in the doorway, dressed in the uniform of a Commander. Will couldn't shake the odd feeling that he had seen the man somewhere before. But before he could think on that further, his attention was distracted when he heard the sound of rattling. Glancing down at the Commander's hand, his blood ran cold when he saw that he was holding a pair of irons.

"William Turner," said the Commander, coldly, his eyes reflecting the barest hint of satisfaction, "by the order of King of England and the authority of Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company, you are under arrest."


	2. Chapter 1: Wedding Day Blues

Chapter 1: Wedding Day Blues

Dark, grey clouds hung over the city of Port Royal. The rain was falling with a steady cadence from the sky above, falling with a gentle pattering on the ceramic of the teacups and the metal of the serving trays. The music was shredded and soaked on the stands, the row upon row of wooden seats standing forlornly empty. It was a shadowed echo of the happy preparations for a wedding day.

Seated on the wet ground of the abandoned wedding sight, Elizabeth Swann resembled a painting made by some great master of light and shadow. Her ruined silk dress and veil and the crushed flowers which she still clutched in her hand left no doubt to anyone's mind that here was a jilted bride.

She was staring blankly ahead, her eyes filled with heartbreaking sadness. The grim weather reflected her mood. On the day that should have been the happiest of her life, everything had gone completely and utterly wrong. She wouldn't have cared if it had rained all day, she wouldn't have cared about the ruined food or if no one had come. She wouldn't have cared at all about the details if the one thing that she had wanted most of all for this day to bring had happened. An hour ago, Elizabeth Swann should have become Elizabeth Turner, but the groom had not as yet shown up.

Elizabeth had no idea where William Turner was, or why he wasn't there for his own wedding. The last time they had spoken, he had been thrilled about the impending ceremony, so happy to finally be getting married. But, had he suddenly grown afraid? What if he didn't even want to marry her, anymore? The thought had even crossed Elizabeth's mind that he might not even love her anymore. That was a bit of illogical thinking on Elizabeth's part, but in her present situation, she could perhaps be excused for that particular fault.

"Elizabeth," a soft voice behind her caused Elizabeth to come out of her thoughts, "Elizabeth, please come inside."

"Emma, where is he?"

Emma Norrington, sister to Elizabeth Swann and wife of James Norrington, the Commodore of the Royal Navy in the Caribbean, knelt down and put a comforting hand on Elizabeth's shoulder, "Elizabeth, I don't doubt that he will be here soon."

"He should have been here an hour ago." Said Elizabeth, glumly.

"And you know as well, if not better than I do, that Will is a man of his word. He would not miss this day, not for anything. You must trust hum, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth did not answer, instead, she just continued to sit and stare. Emma could tell that was back in her own world and she wouldn't be moved or convinced. Sighing, she got to her feet and said, "Please don't stay out in the rain for very much longer. You could ruin this day for both of you if you find yourself becoming ill." Elizabeth still didn't answer.

Emma walked back to the cloisters of Saint George Church, where many of the wedding guests had taken shelter from the unexpected summer storm. Among them was James, who was there to meet her almost as she soon as she returned. "How is she?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

"Fine, for now." Said Emma, glancing back at Elizabeth, "I do not know how long that will last, though. Has there been any news of Will?"

"No. I sent Groves to try and find him, but so far, there's been no word. He should return soon, and hopefully, with our erstwhile bridegroom."

"Surely you do not think that he has left her at the altar, do you?"

"I have complete confidence in Mr. Turner. It was your father I was quoting."

"Oh, father. He must be suffering as much as Elizabeth, though, probably for different reasons."

"Most likely." Said James, smiling, then sobering, he continued, "But in all serious Emma, I am worried. This wedding was supposed to start an hour ago. I honestly don't know what could be taking William so long unless there was something seriously wrong."

"He will be here." Said Emma, firmly, "Until we know all the particulars, we are doing neither him nor Elizabeth any favors."

"I just hope that he arrives soon."

Emma nodded, "So do I, James, so do I."

This day had certainly not gone at all according to plan; first the weather, and now this. People were most likely already starting to talk. Elizabeth Swann marrying a blacksmith was bad enough and this as undoubtedly adding fuel to the flames.

Suddenly, there was a flurry of commotion off to the side. Both James and Emma turned to see Andrew Groves pushing through a group of people, who all cast annoyed glances at the young lieutenant. Groves didn't seem to be noting how much chaos he had caused. His face was a mask of worry and by the time he got to where Emma and James were standing, his agitation was all too obvious. "Commodore, sir, something has happened that you need to know about."

"Lieutenant, what are you talking about? Did you find Mr. Turner?"

Groves shook his head, trying to get control of his ragged breathing. "No, sir. I didn't find him. But something else just occurred which could be much more serious."

"What could be more serious than a bridegroom who hasn't shown up for his own wedding day?"

"What I just saw in the harbor could possibly outrank that. I've just come from there. There was a great deal of excitement on the docks. When I went to see what was going on, I saw a fleet of ships making anchor at the mouth of the bay. Dozens of longboats were coming ashore, all of them filled with troops."

"Groves, are you certain? There's been no word from England that sounds like anything you are describing."

"I know, sir, that's exactly what I was thinking, but then, I saw the flags that the ships were flying. They weren't from the Royal Navy or from anywhere near England, they bore the symbol of the East India Trading Company."

At the sound of the name, James' eyes suddenly grew worried, very worried. "The East India Trading Company? Groves, are you certain?"

"Yes, sir. I saw it quite clearly."

"Than, it is as we feared." Said James, quietly, "The rumors of expansion are true."

"James, what are you talking about?" asked Emma, concerned by the sudden change in James' face.

James hesitated for a moment, but Emma had a right to know. "The East India Trading Company has been campaigning for the past three months to expand its base of operations. They've obviously managed to succeed."

"Why is that a bad thing?" asked Emma.

"In itself, it might not be. But the EITC plays but its own rules, with no regard for the Royal Navy. I do not like how they're coming here. It cannot bring anything good."

Before Emma could respond, there was another commotion that rippled through the crowd, only this one carried with it a decidedly sinister tone. There were whispers and gasps of fear as the guests were shoved away from the entrance of the courtyard by stone-faced troops.

"What's going on?" said James, immediately going over to the nearest of the Marines. "You're under no authority to just burst in and start shoving people around like this."

"I'm sorry, sir." Replied the man, staring straight ahead and standing at rigid attention. "We are under orders from out superior."

"Superior?" said James, "What superior?"

"That would be me, as a matter of fact."

Both James and Emma turned and saw a man standing in front of them. He was of medium height and weight, dressed in elegant clothes. His face was a deceptive mask of supposed friendliness, but there was something in his eyes, an evil that ran deep in his soul. It only took a glance to see that this man enjoyed making people suffer and Lord Cutler Beckett had made plenty of people suffer.

It was also evident by James' reaction that he had seen him somewhere before, and however they might have parted, it had been by any means friendly on his side. "You." He hissed, the dislike in his voice so intense, it bordered on pure hatred.

"And my solicitous greetings to you, James Norrington. My, my you have certainly come up in the world. The lat time I saw you, you were nothing more than a lowly midshipman. Commodore of the Royal Navy, quite a feat for someone of your roots."

James bristled at the obvious insult, and he was about to give him worse, when he suddenly felt Emma's hand grip his arm tightly. Looking back at her, he was shocked to see that he eyes were wide with surprised terror. Before he could ask Emma what was wrong, Beckett saw her and his mouth spread into a cold, reptilian smile that made his face grow even more grotesque. "Ah, Miss Emma Swann. What an unexpected honor and delight. If I may say so, you look as lovely now as when I saw you last."

"What do you want here, Beckett?" asked Emma, who looked as if she would like nothing better than for Beckett to disappear into the bowls of the earth at that very moment.

James was looking from Beckett to Emma in confusion. There was something about this whole thing which was setting him on edge. "How do you know my wife?"

"Wife? Ah yes, I believe that I heard something about that. I suppose that congratulations are in order."

"What are you doing here, Beckett?" repeated Emma, her grip on James tightening even more. James didn't know yet why or how Emma would be so frightened if Beckett, but whatever he had done, he was determined that he wouldn't touch her.

"An unavoidable and considerably unpleasant task to myself, I may assure you, Mrs. Norrington." Said Beckett, "I hope that you will remember in these next few minutes that what I am about to do I do with the utmost respect to you, but than, justice must be served."

With that, he turned and walked from where Emma and James were standing, to look at Elizabeth, still sitting slumped in the rain. She as yet seemed unaware of the fact that her wedding day was in process of being violently interrupted. And none could have foreseen that what would be begun here to day, would soon change the entire Caribbean, forever.

* * *

Well, there are the first two chapters. I hope that this is the beginning of a worthy sequel. As always, read and review.

Next chapter: Beckett reveals his purpose in coming to the Caribbean and showing up at Elizabeth's wedding without an invitation, and also informs Will of a certain change in his sister's status. And James begins to suspect that he has found a new and dangerous enemy.


	3. Chapter 3: Old Adversary, New Enemy

Yes, here I am, again. Yes, I am still alive and no, I have not given up on this story. Life has just really run away with me the last couple weeks. But, hopefully, the up dates will be a bit more regular. Anyway, here is the next chapter. Enjoy.

Chapter 2: Old Adversary, New Enemy

The rain hadn't let up, and to Elizabeth's mind, it seemed like it would never would. Unresponsive to all that happened around her, she just sat and felt the hot tears of heartbreak sting her eye and down her face, mingling with the coolness of the rain. However, this state of affairs was not destined to last.

She gradually began to be aware of the fact that she was being watched, watched by a pair of eyes with cruel intentions. Confused, she turned her head to look behind her, and though she saw the man staring at her from the archways of Saint George's, her mind didn't register who he was or what he might have represented. Instead, what she saw was Will, arriving to his own wedding at last, but with guards surrounding him, his hands chained and his face grim. Hardly what a groom should look like on his wedding day.

Dropping the ruined the flowers on the wet cobblestones, she hurried over to him, "Will," she cried, softly, taking his hands and looking up into his face with worried eyes, "why is this happening?"

"I don't know," Will confessed. Elizabeth looked down and tried to keep herself from sobbing. Will, who didn't wish to see her anymore upset than she already was, added gently, "You look beautiful."

Elizabeth smiled sadly, "I think its bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding."

Before anymore words could be exchanged between the unfortunate pair, the sounds of Governor Swann pushing through the crowd were heard. "Let me through." Just as he was about to reach Will and Elizabeth, two Marines blocked his way through spears. "How dare you." He turned to the man who was still standing with his back towards them. "Stand your men down at once. Do you hear me?"

The stranger at last turned around. Shrugging off his cloak to a nearby servant, he stepped forward and greeted Governor Swann with condescending familiarity. "Governor Weatherby Swann, it's been too long."

Governor Swann reacted with surprised disgust when the face before him registered in his memory. "Cutler Beckett?"

"It's Lord, now, actually." Said Beckett, as if it should have been obvious that he had risen in the ranks of society the last time that the two of them had met.

Nodding to the guards, they lifted their spears, allowing the Governor to step forward. Governor Swann had recovered himself quickly and, he said with authority, "Lord or not, you have no reason and no authority to arrest this man."

"As a matter of fact, I do. Mr. Mercer?"

Mercer, obviously some sort of clerk to Beckett, stepped forward with a leather bag in one hand, which contained several documents. Beckett handed one over to the Governor, saying, "The warrant for the arrest of one William Turner."

Governor Swann took the paper and looked at it for a few seconds. Horrified surprise leapt across his face, and he glanced from the warrant to Elizabeth, and back to Beckett. "This warrant is for Elizabeth Swann." He said in disbelief.

"Is it?" said Beckett, chiding himself sarcastically for such a slip. "That's annoying, my mistake, arrest her."

Soldiers stepped forward and seized Elizabeth. Shocked and angry, Elizabeth cried, "On what charges?"

"No." said Will at the same moment, straining against the arms of his own guards in a vain attempt to protect the woman he loved.

"Ah-ha!" said Beckett triumphantly, handing him another document to the Governor. "Here's the warrant for Mr. Turner."

"What are the charges?" demanded Elizabeth, once more. "We are under the jurisdiction of the King's Governor of Port Royal and you will tell us what we are charged with."

"The charge," said Governor Swann, "is conspiring to set a free a man convicted of crimes against the Crown and Empire and condemned to death for which…" the Governor trailed off in mid-sentence, to aghast by the next few words to even bring himself to say them.

"For which the punishment, regrettably, is also death." Finished Beckett, without batting an eye.

A moment of silence followed, wherein Beckett allowed the weight of what he had just said to fully settle in. then, he stepped forward, and spoke to Will, almost as if he were greeting an old friend rather than arresting a near stranger. "Tell me, Mr. Turner, have you heard from your sister recently?"

Will stiffened. He glared at Beckett and said through gritted teeth, "What do you know of my sister?"

"Only that Miss Turner has taken on a rather questionable career. Although, I'm not really sure what to call her now. I suppose that she would have changed her name after her recent marriage."

That got Will's attention. His eyes widened with surprise and he stared at Beckett in astonishment. "Marriage?"

"Oh, you didn't know? I would have thought she would have told you. It's all over the Caribbean, but than, I expect that you wouldn't be aware of ordinary gossip. Your sister is married to a certain pirate named Jack Sparrow."

"Captain." Snapped both Will and Elizabeth simultaneously.

"Captain Jack Sparrow." Repeated Elizabeth, coldly.

Beckett smiled in a mockingly indulgent manner at Elizabeth's decidedly unladylike tone of voice. "Captain Jack Sparrow, yes I thought you might remember him." he turned to the guards who were holding them two of them and said, "Take them away. Let some time in the dungeons consider their options."

Elizabeth and Will, both struggling violently against their bondage, were hustled away.

Both James and Emma had been watching this whole thing in horrified silence. When they were gone, James looked at Beckett and said, "You won't get away with this."

"I'm afraid that any authority you have over me is nonexistent. The East India Trading Company, as you might perhaps already be aware is independent of the Royal Navy. In fact, the East India Company has been enjoying a great deal of influence. You may find that some faces you recognize have found commissions within their ranks.

It was at this moment that the same Commander who had been arrested Will appeared and said, "My Lord, all of our troops have landed."

"Very good, Commander." He gestured to James, "I do believe that the two of you are acquainted."

James stared at the Commander before him. "Gillette." He said, after a moment of shocked silence.

"Hello, Commodore." Said Gillette, smiling, "It's been a long time, hasn't it? We haven't met since you drummed me out of the Navy. As you can see, though, I've found a much better position than I ever enjoyed under you. Lord Beckett has a talent for finding men of leadership.

"And just how did you get him to see that quality in you? A lieutenant who disobeyed a direct order and caused the destruction of a flagship in a hurricane." James hen noticed the sneaky, self-satisfied expression in his former lieutenants' face. "Oh, I see. You continently left that part out."

"Not exactly, the report you sent to the Admiralty in England more or less ruined any chance that I had to get another commission from the Royal Navy. Fortunately, for me, at least, there were others in London who was more than willing to overlook a few mistakes for a seasoned sailor who could command others."

"A few mistakes? You killed nearly a third of the crew because of your foolishness."

"Commodore, Commodore," said Gillette, chuckling as if the statement had come from naive child. "You always cared too much for the cost instead of the ultimate outcome. If a few lives are lost a long the way, it doesn't matter so long as the mission turns out to be a success."

James saw that further argument was fruitless, so all he merely said, coldly, "Either way, Gillette, you won't be commanding any Royal Navy ships, not so long as I still have authority in the Caribbean."

"Don't be too sure of that, Commodore." Said Gillette, "That may very soon change."

James was about to snap his reply when he suddenly noticed what was happening behind him between Beckett and his wife. Beckett had advanced on Emma, and the look on her face was that of a cornered animal with no hope of escape. Beckett seemed to be getting some sort of sadistic pleasure in the obvious fear that he was inflicting on Emma.

"It is regrettable that we must meet again under such unfortunate circumstances," He had taken her hand, and before he raised it to his lips, he said, "Emma."

Emma shrank back, as if she were facing a nightmare. Before Beckett had a chance to kiss her hand, she jerked it out of his grasp, and than, unmindful of the people still gathered under the arches of the church, she turned and pushing her way rapidly through the crowd. She didn't seem to hear any of the annoyed shouts or protests that came from her intrusion. It was as if the only thought in her mind was to get as far away from Beckett as possible and as quickly as she could.

When James saw her running like a murderer was hard on her heels, he instantly forgot Gillette, Beckett and everything else. "Emma, Emma!" he called to her, as he began to follow her through the crowd. Emma didn't respond, indeed, judging by the look of absolute panic in her face, he wondered if she had even heard him.

He finally managed to catch up with her. She was leaning against a pillar, all the strength apparently drained from her body. "Emma?" he said, as he laid a hand on her shoulder.

Emma uttered a terrified shriek, as if his presence had come as a complete surprise. She whirled around, but even when she saw him standing there, she didn't relax. She seemed to become even more agitated.

He had never seen such a look on Emma's face. She had gone white, her eyes wide with fear and terror. "Emma, what on earth is the matter?"

She didn't answer the question, but merely seized both James by the shoulders. "James, take me away from here. Get me away from this place, away from, from _him._"

The thought that maybe he should have questioned her further did cross his mind, but it was also clear from Emma's behavior and looks that she wouldn't have been able to answer him in anyway that would have been intelligible.

He led Emma around the back way, to the main road in front of the church. The rain was still in endless torrents from the heavens above. The tears of Elizabeth had mingled with those drops a short time ago; now Emma herself was weeping, only her tears were those of sheer terror. She was also beginning to shiver, though from the cold or the factored state of her emotional state, James couldn't tell. But he had to get her home quickly before she became ill or worse.

As he shed his coat and wrapped it around Emma's trembling figure, he called to their footman and ordered that their carriage be brought around immediately. The footman, who had might have had some questions about why the wedding had finished so quickly or as to why his mistress was practically fainting, knew better than to start asking questions; he merely nodded and hurried to obey the command. Once they were inside the confines of the carriage and speeding toward home, James cradled his wife against him, trying to understand what had just happened. Obviously, there was a history between his wife and Lord Cutler Beckett. She had been frightened when she first saw him, and that fear had turned to dead terror at his touch.

As James thought over these things, his eyes began to harden and his protective hold around Emma increased. It didn't matter that he didn't know what had happened between the two of them, it didn't matter how long ago it had occurred. From that moment on, James Norrington knew that he had found in his old adversary, a new and dangerous enemy.

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As always, read and review.

Next chapter: We see our first sight of Jack and Marie. How are these equally tempestous personalities coping with being married to each other? We will soon see.


	4. Chapter 4: The Sparrow and His Mate

Here is the next chapter. How are these two coping with marriage after a year? Read on and find out.

Chapter 3: The Sparrow and His Mate

In the blackest, most back waters of the Caribbean, under the light of a full moon, a ship, as dark as the water and sky that surrounded, lay at anchor. The air was unusually cool for that time of the year and fog had in rolled in from an known direction, embracing the ship in its ghostly tendrils. The wind creaked and groaned in the night wind. The surroundings have caused shivers to skate down the spine of any normal person. But the people who crewed this ship could hardly be described as normal. They were pirates.

The infamous _Black Pearl_ had returned to the Caribbean. For many of the past months, she had haunted the waters around the Mediterranean and the coast of Africa, but now she was back in her home waters.

"Fifteen men on a dead man's chest

Yo ho ho

And a bottle of rum"

The drunken off-key singing seemed to blend effortlessly with the atmosphere of the _Black Pearl_, which was notorious for having its own unique ambience, even for a pirate ship.

"Drink and the devil had done for the rest

Yo ho ho

And a bottle of rum."

Joshamee Gibbs, first mate aboard the _Black Pearl, _the cause of his present state of mind clutched in his hand. Chuckling dryly at the song, he raised the bottle to his lips.

"Where is he?" The voice behind him startled Gibbs out of his fantasy. He turned to look at the dark silhouetted of the speaker, at the stern of the ship. "Be patient, lass. You know, Jack, he's probably gone and gotten himself into mischief."

"Patience," she said, "is for the birds."

Gibbs was about to reply when the sonorous tones of a bell broke through the eerie silence of night. This was followed by the sinister sound of harsh cawing, the cries of crows. She and Gibbs looked up to see several black shapes flying against the night sky, in the direction of a forbidding fortress that was built precariously on the cliffs of an island that was a league distant from the where the _Pearl_ was anchored.

"Pity the poor lads who'll soon be feelin' the bites of those beaks." Said Gibbs.

She could only nod her agreement. Despite her tough exterior, she felt a definite shudder skating down her spine. The stories of the Turkish prison were the stuff of nightmares. It was here that the lowliest of the low criminals were brought by any manner of pirate, bounty hunter or any other person who lacked both conscience and money.

It was said that the deeper you went, the more it seemed like you were descending into the deepest circles of hell. Rumor had it that the prison extended below the earth for many levels, and the lower one went, the more that you could hear screaming and groaning, and the more grotesque and cruel the tortures became. Many had been taken through the doors of that prison, she knew of none who had come out again.

This had, of course, been exactly why her husband had wanted to try and get what he was looking for in the most ludicrous way possible. Sneak in, sneak out, without getting captured or killed, the latter of the two being the most likely to happen. Nothing she had said to try and dissuade him from his purpose had worked. He had only responded to her worries by saying with his trademark grin, "You forget one very important thing, luv. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Pray heaven that he's not one of those unfortunate lads." She said, quietly.

But not quite so quietly that Gibbs was unable to hear. "I'm sure that Jack would be touched to hear you're so worried about him."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, and if you value your position on this ship, Gibbs, you'll forget it as well."

Gibbs wasn't sure how to respond to this. With Marie, one could never be too careful. "Yes, sir, er, uh, ma'am."

He heard her chuckle dryly and say, "Relax, Gibbs, it was only a joke."

Leaving Gibbs to try and make sense of their conversation that had just passed; she took out her spyglass and, for what seemed like the hundredth time that hour, brought it up to scan the horizon.

When she first saw it, she had no reason to pay it any heed. But, when she took a closer look, she realized that there were coffins floating on the sea, and judging by the number of them, she suspected that the prison's coffin makers had been kept rather busy lately.

Through her spyglass, she saw a large crow light on one of the coffins. It began pecking at the wood with dagger-like beak, no doubt hoping to make a quick meal of the rotting corpse inside, but he never got the chance.

POW!

The pistol shot ripped through the silence of the night like a hammer breaking glass. The bird only had time to let out a startled squawk before he literally exploded in a cloud of feathers. The next instant, a long arm shot out of the hole made by the bullet. It still held the smoking pistol that had caused the untimely demise of the crow, and it rotated in all directions before vanishing back into the coffin. Then, the top of the coffin splintered and broke apart, revealing the face and upper torso of the infamously famous pirate Captain Jack Sparrow. She grinned as she watched him reach into the coffin and pull out his hat. Straightening it, he placed it on his head as a king would a crown.

She watched him murmur something as he once more reached into the coffin and pulled out a large leg bone. Using it as a paddle, he began heading for the _Pearl_. She found herself grinning as she watched this scene. One thing she could say for Jack Sparrow. However unconventional his methods, He certainly knew how to make an entrance.

"Ya see 'im?" agreed Gibbs from below her.

"Yes, just off the starboard side. Rouse the crew. Tell them the captain's coming aboard."

As Gibbs started shouting orders, she said under her breath, "And soon, Jack, we will see jus what it is that you have been hiding."

* * *

As Captain Jack Sparrow clambered onto the deck of the _Black Pearl_, the first sight that greeted him was Gibbs' bemused expression as he studied the moldering human leg bone that had been handed to him by Jack. "Not quite accordin' to plan." He observed.

"Complications arose, ensued, were overcome." Said Jack, in his usual off-hand manner. He started walking off, apparently thinking that their little exchange was over. But Gibbs had other ideas.

"You got what you went in for, than?"

"Mmm-hmm." Sad Jack in affirmative. He withdrew from his coat a cloth parchment and waved it within Gibbs' line of sight. When he turned back around, he was stopped in mid-stride when he saw the angry faces of his crew, who had all grouped together, and were now facing down Jack, who now looked quite small. None of them looked to be at all that friendly. In fact, they looked downright dangerous.

There was a moment of silence as Jack's crew glared at him and he stared back in evident confusion.

"Cap'n." said Gibbs, attempting to act as a neutral peacemaker between two war camps. "I believe the crew (meanin' me as well) were expectin' somethin' a bit more shiny, what with the Isla de Muerta goin' all pear-shaped, reclaimed by the sea and the treasure with it."

"And the Royal Navy chasing us all around the Atlantic." Piped up Leech a crewmember they had picked up in the Mediterranean. He had not endured himself to Marie, or to Jack. He was a troublemaker, or perhaps he would be better described as someone who would have liked to be a troublemaker. Truth be told, he lacked the cunning and brains to plot a mutiny, but he was still a thorn in the side of the command of the _Black Pearl_, one that they dearly would have liked to get rid of.

"And the Hurricane." Finished Marty, who might have been the shortest member of the crew, but who was by no means small of temper or in the salty manner of his vocabulary.

These statements were greeted with grumblings of agreement from the others. "All in all," summed up Gibbs, "it seems a long time since we did a speck of honest piratin'." Gibbs was apparently unaware of the fact that he had just uttered an oxymoron.

Jack had listened to all of this with evident bemusement on his face; it was almost as though he had had no idea that his crew had been feeling any kind of discontent.

"Shiny?" he finally queried.

"Aye, shiny." Repeated Gibbs, who was beginning to sound rather irritated.

"Is that how you're all feeling, then?" he inquired of the rest of the crew, "That perhaps dear old Jack is not serving your best interests as Captain?"

"Awk, walk the plank!" squawked Cotton's parrot, who promptly clamped a hand on the bird's beak, before it could say anything more.

Unfortunately, Jack had heard it. Like lightening, he had his pistol pointed at Cotton and the parrot. "What did the bird say?" he asked, angrily.

"Do not blame the bird." Said Leech, "The blame really belongs with that woman you insist on keeping onboard."

The statement was worded in such a way to deliberately get Jack's attention. He turned his eyes on Leech and said, in a tone that belied his normally flippant attitude. "Are you havin' a problem with my wife, mate?"

"Only that having a woman onboard is bad luck. The fact that she is onboard puts all of our lives at risk."

Mumblings of agreement came from some members of the crew (those who were smart enough to know what was coming wisely choose to keep silent). Emboldened by this show of support, Leech felt confidant to press his point a bit more. "I say, if we ever hope to have our fortunes reversed, we should that woman over the side and let the sharks enjoy her as much you do in your cabin every night."

Before Jack could respond (and he no doubt would have said something utterly profane), the thunder shot of pistol stopped him. It was so unexpected that it caused everyone to flinch, especially Leech, who had felt the wind of the bullet as it went past him.

The sound of the shot lingered in the air, the acrid smell of the smoke burning everyone's nostrils for several seconds. A moment of silence settled over the crew, and then a voice was heard from the stern of the ship. "If anyone has a problem with me being on this ship, here and now, let him speak and I will answer him."

No one spoke, but rather stared at the threatening of Marie Sparrow, a challenging light in her eyes. She never took her eyes off the crew, particularly Leech, who suddenly regretted that he had said anything.

"Now you've done it, mate." Whispered Jack in Leech's ear.

Marie came down the steps that led to the main deck, speaking as she went. "All of you who serve on this vessel are well aware of the fact that I stay on this ship of my own free will. I pull my weight the same as anyone. I have not nor never will stand being coddled because of my gender. But I won't allow myself to be criticized either." She was on the main deck now, walking in and amongst the crew. "You may try and mutter about me, you might say that I am source of all your troubles, but what troubles have we had over the past year? We all seem to be forgetting the fact that _Black Pearl_ has made several good captures lately, we have not been captured by the Royal Navy and we weren't destroyed in the hurricane. I would not say that this ship has been suffering fro bad luck, more that it is just encountering some rough weather. And you all know as well as I do that the best way to survive those times is to ride them out. If you cannot handle it, than you shouldn't be in this line of work."

Reluctant murmurs of agreement followed her statement. The fervor of mutiny had been effectively squashed. Leech's argument, or indeed influence, no longer held any weight for the present moment. "If you have any problem with me being on the _Black Pearl_, then you have three options open to you. You can keep quiet and lay low, you can jump ship at the next available port or you can face me directly and tell me what you have to say. But, then, of course you know what would happen." She turned a dangerous glance on Leech and though her next words were also a general warning for the crew, there could be doubt that she was actually directly referring to him. "If you choose confrontation, you know what would happen. You've all seen me in battle. I won't dwell on the particulars of what I might do if pressed, but perhaps you can use your imagination. Consider the options you have, and whether or not you can live with me, because if you can't, you'll to pay the consequences. Do I make myself clear?"

Leech, by now thoroughly cowed, nodded dumbly along with the rest of the crew. Marie had carried her point home.

"Well, then," said Jack, who knew that Marie liked to fight her own battles. "I suppose that's taken care of?"

"That is, yes." Said Marie, turning her attention to Jack. "However, there are mattes that have not yet been resolved."

"What do you mean?" asked Jack.

"You still haven't said what's on that piece of cloth your carrying. You had better do it right now or you'll have a real mutiny on your hands."

"Would you really turn against me?"

Marie shrugged. "If I had, too."

Jack didn't know whether she was joking of being serious. Backed into a corner as he was, (and by Marie, no less), he didn't have much choice. However, before he could say anything about the cloth, from out of nowhere, a hideous boned creature suddenly dropped down in front of him. It resembled a monkey, but without fur, only a walking skeleton.

Jack tried to shoot the monkey, but since his pistol wasn't loaded, it didn't really work. It wouldn't have made much difference in any case; Jack the Monkey couldn't be killed.

The monkey dropped down to the ground, grabbed the cloth from Jack's hand and began to run away with it. Jack, always quick to get at another solution, snatched the loaded pistol standing nearby. Taking his aim, he fired. The bullet found its mark, causing the monkey to shriek in agony and scamper away, dropping the cloth in the process.

"Why did that little monster have to the one thing that escaped the Isla de Muerta?" questioned Marie, in obvious distaste.

"You know that don't know good, anyway." Gibbs said to Jack.

"It does me,' replied Jack, keeps my aim sharp."

Marty had hurried over to pick up the cloth and it was he who answered the question that had been on everyone's mind for the past five minutes. "It's a key."

"No," denied Jack, as he scurried over to Marty and took the cloth from him, "much more better. It is a drawing of a key." He presented the drawing as if it were a great painting. And sure enough, there was a key inscribed in faded black ink on the cloth's surface. The crew came forward, looking intently at the picture. Once Jack was sure he had their full attention, he asked, "Gentlemen, what do keys do?" he sounded quite pleased with himself, although why he should Marie had no idea.

"Keys…" said Leech, haltingly, at last, "unlock things."

Gibbs caught on at once. A gleam came to his eyes that only a pirate can have when the barest hint of treasure is mentioned. "And whatever this key unlocks, inside there's somethin' valuable, so we're settin' out to find whatever this key unlocks."

Jack looked as if he were about to confirm this statement, when he suddenly said, "No." Gibbs smile vanished and he looked at Jack in confusion. Marie rolled her eyes as Jack used his eloquent tongue to charm or confuse the crew back over to his side. "If we don't have the key, we can't open whatever it is that we don't have that it unlocks. So what purpose would be served in finding whatever need be unlocked, which we don't have, without having first found the key what unlocks it?"

Gibbs took a few moments to respond as he tried to decipher this last statement into regular English. "So, we're goin' after this key?" he said, brightening.

Jack looked at Gibbs and said, "You're not making any sense at all."

"And you think you are?" inquired Marie, with raised eyebrows.

"I try to keep myself in a state of utter confusion,' said Jack, "I find that helps me make sense of life."

"Well, you're doing a wonderful job."

"Thank you, luv." Jack turned to the crew, "Now, are there anymore questions?"

No doubt many of the crew still had many questions, but as nobody wanted to send Jack off on a tagent that only he would be able to understand, nobody said anything. Jack had won back the support of his crew, for now at least.

"So," said Marty, when it became evident that nobody had any more questions pertaining to the cloth. "Do we have a heading?"

"Ah, a heading." Said Jack, relieved to have a question he could actually answer. Taking the compass from his belt, he opened it and declared, "Set sail in a…" It was only at the moment when he saw that the needle of the compass was spinning wildly in all directions. It pointed first to the east, then west, then it pointed in Marie's direction, before it spun around to a point due northwest. "… In a… general…" Jack's fingers followed the point of the spinning compass. This had never happened with the compass before. He had no idea what to do. Finally, he did the only thing that he could do under the circumstances: point in a random direction and say, "that way direction."

Marie, Gibbs and the rest of the crew turned almost as one to look in the direction that Jack had pointed. This was also something new to the crew. Jack was usually so precise in his orders, that they weren't sure how to respond. "Cap'n?" asked Gibbs.

Jack closed the compass with a snap and turned around to face Gibbs. "Come on," he said, irately, "snap too, and make a sail. You know how this works." He headed for his cabin, shooing crewmembers out of his way as he went, "Oi, oi, oi." Marie could only give a despairing sigh and roll her eyes as she followed Jack.

As the rest of the crew dispersed to follow Jack's rather ambiguous directions, Gibbs stayed at the railing, where he was joined surreptitiously by Marty. "Have you noticed lately, the Cap's seems to be actin' a bit strange." Gibbs looked at Marty. Jack was always strange, and so Marty quickly amended, "er."

Gibbs nodded grimly, "Settin sail without knowin' his own headin'? And that's only the beginnin', is Marie's word is anything to be believed, he's startin' to act secretive with her, too. You know how much they trust each other; well, he didn't even tell her we were comin' to this island, much less the reason why."

"Did she anythin' else?"

Gibbs shook his head, "No, but I could tell by the look in her eyes that there was a whole lot more. Mark my words, somthin's got Jack vexed, and what bodes ill for Jack Sparrow bodes ill for us all."

The _Black Pearl_, still wreathed in the thick cloud of fog, turned its sails into the wind and continued on its unending voyage upon the seas. It had returned to the Caribbean, it had started on a new adventure. An adventure that would change them all forever.

* * *

There is another chapter done. As always, read and review.

Next chapter: Not all is as it seems between Jack and Marie. Jack is hiding something from Marie, and those secrets will test them more than anything that they could ever have encountered


	5. Chapter 5: Once Upon A Dream

Chapter 4: Once Upon a Dream

Within the cabin of the _Black Pearl_, Marie was beginning to find that the questions she had wanted to ask weren't going to be answered in any definite way. Jack was proving to be as slippery with her as he had been with the rest of the crew.

One they had managed to gain something that could remotely be called privacy, Jack had taken out the compass. It had proven to be no more cooperative in the cabin than on deck. This had, of course, drawn the attention of Marie, who had promptly wanted to know what was going on. He had at first been reluctant to bring it up with Marie, but she had so pressed the point that he had been forced to give up.

"I keep talking you to get a compass that works like it's supposed too, in case that one ever malfunctions." She said, once he had explained the problem of the wildly spinning point to her. "However, you never listen to me. That's what always getting you into these messes I the first place."

"I've never gotten another compass, because this one isn't supposed to malfunction, and I resent the word messes."

"Oh, and what was that little escaping trick from the Turkish prison? I can't exactly say that it appeared you were in complete control of the situation."

"As I said, complications arose."

"Complications always are arising when you go off on your own. It's a good thing you came back when you did, because if you hadn't, I doubt that I would have waited any longer for you."

"So, you would have come back for me, just like you always do."

"I'm not entirely sure that I would have. There comes a time when everyone gets tires of the same activity. After saving your back ten times in the past year, I'm going to get tired of it soon."

"Eight." Said Jack, without looking up from the charts he was now in the process of studying. "It's really only been eight times; which, I might add, is far less than the twelve times I've had to get you out of your own near disasters."

Marie's eyebrows knitted together and she looked at Jack. "I could have sworn it was ten. I know for a fact, however, that you haven't saved me twelve times. At the very least, it's only been ten."

"Twelve."

"Ten." Said Marie, a bit more forcefully, "Believe me, I'm sure on this, because I've kept very careful track."

"Ah ha!" said Jack, as if he had caught something, "Why have you managed to keep more careful attention of how many times I've saved you and not the other way around?" Marie opened her mouth, but then shut it again. "You don't have an answer to that, do you?"

"What does it matter if I do or don't? I fail to see what that has to do with this conversation."

Jack got to his feet, and sidled over to her, grinning in his trademark way, "It would prove the fact that you acknowledge the fact that I have saved you more times than you've saved me. Therefore, I know that you're going to work a little harder to get the better of me. I know you won't rest till you're at least even with me. So, I don't think you'll be getting tired of savin' me anytime soon."

Marie took a minute to seemingly consider the logic of Jack's statement, before she smiled, and leaned forward, in what might be called a decidedly seductive manner. "Bravo, Jack Sparrow. You've managed to convince me."

"You're taking losing very well, but I must tell you right now, you're never goin' to catch up with me."

"And why is that?"

"Because," said Jack, in a near whisper, "I'll never get tired of savin' you."

They were a mere breath apart. Marie, heart hammering with anticipation, waited for their lips to brush together, waited for the moment when their bodies would meet and begin moving together. But after a moment, Jack merely stepped back and resumed looking at the charts, saying as though nothing had happened, "It's as simple as that."

Marie had to restrain herself from sighing in defeat. Why had she though that this time would have been any different than all the other times it had occurred over the past few months?

Trying to hide her disappointment, Marie began to speak once more. "Well, now that we've established that, we still have yet to solve why your compass keeps pointing in three directions at once."

"Well, why ask that question? It's perfectly clear that neither of us knows the answer."

"And with an attitude like that, we never will find the answer. You told me that it's supposed to point to what you want most in this world. Why have you suddenly seemed to have lost your decisiveness?"

"Oh, so now you trust an inanimate object to tell you things about me that I couldn't tell you myself? I don't know why, but that disturbs me greatly?"

"I never said that. I just don't want to think that it means you're gone back to wanting every girl in every port we stop at."

"We're still harping on that? What was it? Nearly eight months ago? And I might add that is what got us into the more seriously committed portion of our relationship. That is what you wanted anyway, so I don't know what you feel you have to complain about now."

"Jack, would you please keep to the subject? You went into the prison for a reason. Now what was it?"

"I already told you why I went in there." Said Jack, gesturing to the cloth, "It's right there."

Marie was getting tired of this game. She wanted a straight answer from Jack and if wasn't going to give her one willingly, then she would have to make him talk. Fortunately, she had her own special brand of persuasion.

Walking, or to be perfectly accurate, prowling like a cat would in tracking a mouse, she said, "A picture of a key on a cloth? I find it hard to believe that you would risk life and limb for something as trivial as that." She had come very close by this time, closer than would have been completely necessary for normal conversation. She leaned against Jack's chair, and her fingers slithered down to begin caressing Jack's hand and lower arm. She could tell that he was trying to ignore her, and that he was failing rather miserably. He was starting to succumb. She put her other hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear, "Why is this piece of cloth so important? Why did you risk your life for it?"

He turned his head to respond and found that she was even closer than he had at first thought, "Marie…"

"Go on, Jack, tell me." said Marie, her hand moving from Jack's arm to the cloth that he had retrieved from the prison, which he had completely forgotten about under Marie's distraction. "Or, I shall have to find a way that will not fail to persuade you." Suddenly she snatched the cloth, right from under Jack's nose, and backed away from him, a challenging light in her eyes.

"Marie, what are you doing?" asked Jack, in disbelief and no small amount of embarrassment. Marie, again, had managed to exploit his one weakness. Her touch, when she was in a seductive mood, was really his only weakness, the one which was almost impossible to resist.

"You can keep secrets, so can I. besides, I think you already know what it is I want."

"Marie, I don't have time for this." Said Jack, despite the fact that he had to deliberately restrain himself from pursuing hotly the game of seduction that his wife had started.

"Your eyes tell a different story, Jack. If you want it that badly, than you're going to have to persuade me and persuade me strongly."

Jack almost allowed himself to submit. And Marie almost thought that he would finally open up to her again, but then, Jack, fighting against the impulses that Marie was annoyingly so skilled at arousing, he held out his hand and said, "Marie, please."

Marie's entire persona seemed to change on hearing these words. She looked at Jack for a few seconds, her crushed disappointment all too evident, before she drew herself up and after hesitating for a few moments, gave the cloth back to her husband. The words she spoke next almost were enough to make Jack flinch. "You used to have time for many other things." Her tone was cool and distant, a far cry from the one she had adopted only a few seconds before.

Jack and Marie exchanged a glance. Before Jack turned his face away and sat down at his table once more. A tense moment of silence followed, before Marie said, "We've both had long nights, it seems to me that we could both use some sleep."

The invitation was thinly veiled, a plea made in desperation. But Jack, in defiance of the way that he had used to act nearly all the time, once more turned her away. "Actually, Marie, I don't feel particularly tired."

"Not at all?" questioned Marie, as she came toward him, her hand finding it's way to his shoulder and sliding across the back of his neck. "Not even a little?"

The lingering echo of her touch was almost enough to cause him to crack. It had been a long time, after all, but time was one thing he knew that he couldn't afford to spare. If he and Marie were to have any chance of continuing to enjoy the life that they had been leading together, he had to concentrate on this.

"No, Marie. Maybe I'll join you soon."

Marie instantly withdrew her contact. She had heard that excuse all too many times. It meant that he wouldn't be coming to her at all. "Well, if you should happen to change your mind." With that, she turned and headed for their room, at least, it was supposed to be their room, onboard ship. Indeed, there had been a bit to many "supposed to's" in their relationship lately for her liking.

For the past few months, a change had come over Jack. He had become distracted and on edge. Sometimes, when the night was dark and the shadows were long, he would look all around him, jump at the slightest sound, as if he were expecting an attack from an unseen enemy. She had thought nothing of it at first, but when he had started having dreams that caused him to awake in terror, she had become worried. Jack was no coward, he looked to avoid trouble at all costs, but when locked in a fight, he would not back down. Nor did he pay any credence to what he saw in his sleep. But he had been acting in a way that was so contrary to his personality, she often thought, for a few seconds, that she was married to a stranger

But then, he had begun to shut her out. He had begun to be secretive, withdrawn and would make decisions that didn't seem to make any sense. Granted he often did make decisions that didn't seem to make any sense initially, but these recent choices seemed to have no pattern whatsoever. And he wasn't telling her what he was planning. Like this current escapade. What purpose was served in going into a potentially deadly situation to get a picture of a cloth with a key on it? She might have been willing to accept these ludicrous plans that Jack seemed to be employing more and more, if he had at least even dropped a hint to her about how it was all supposed to be connected. But, he had told her nothing.

She hated to doubt Jack, she still loved him, but she was beginning to wonder. The last year with him had been the best of her life. She was living her dream of adventure with a man that she loved. Jack was so much like her and yet so different, too. They had managed to develop an understanding, a rapport. It had been difficult, there had been challenges, but they had always before managed to work beyond their separate stubbornness and find a solution, or at least, a compromise that would work. But this, this was different. This was no mere stubbornness on Jack's part; it was almost as if he were deliberately trying to shut her out, which hurt all the more.

Marie, as she thought of these things, tried hard not to hold back tears. Had this whole thing, this whole year, been nothing but a dream? Had she and Jack never been meant to work out after all? She was beginning to wonder, and she didn't like what her rational mind was saying, especially when she wanted to listen to her heart.

Glancing back at Jack, she saw him hunched over the table, studying the charts intently. "I might as well not even exist." She murmured to herself, as she lay by herself in the bed, "It was just a dream."

Alone and downcast, Marie Sparrow allowed her eyes to drift shut. She had soon drifted off into a troubled sleep, dreaming of the happier times. For now, it seemed as if the dreams were all that she would ever be able to have.

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, as always, read and review.

Next chapter: A double header of two chapters. We catch up with James and Emma, as they remember some of the events which have led to where they are now. James remembers the last time he saw Henry Gillette and Emma reveals her past with Beckett.


	6. Chapter 6: Remmbrance of Things Past

Well, here it is. Two brand new chapters of Pirates of the Caribbean 2, and in record time. In these two chapters, we get the backstory of what happened between James with Gillette and Emma with Beckett. Hopefully, everyone will be able to follow it, and everyone will enjoy it.

Chapter 4: Remembrance of Things Past

The clouds and rain had moved from Port Royal, and the sun was now shining in a sky of deep blue. However, for James Norrington, the supposed Commodore of the Royal Navy, the weather was black and grim as he had ever known it to be.

He was returning back to his home after a most unpleasant meeting with Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company, as well as James' former second-in-command, Henry Gillette. In the space of an hour, he had been unceremoniously stripped of any power that he had to command in the Caribbean. Of course, it had all been done in a very underhanded way. He had not been formally stripped of his command and the Royal Navy was still supposedly in charge of military operations in the Caribbean. The EITC was supposedly only to take action when its shipping routes were endangered and the Royal Navy could do nothing to help. It had been upon that loophole which Beckett had built his whole plan upon.

He informed James in the most polite language that masked his real purpose that the king had not been at all impressed with how the Royal Navy was handling things in the Caribbean. When Beckett had appealed to have the EITC's territory expanded, there had been little opposition. It was quite obvious from the way that he spoke, that he had also been granted permission to use whatever force necessary to achieve that goal.

So, now here he was, practically stripped of everything he had worked for. It had been a double insult to see Gillette, that sneering weasel he had once thought he could trust, standing behind Beckett, drinking in and enjoying every moment of his former commander's humiliation. No doubt, he considered it the perfect revenge.

FLASHBACK-TEN MONTHS BEFORE

The _Dauntless_ had returned to Port Royal. However, the way it had returned did at all mirror how it had gone forth. The citizens of the colony had expected the pride of the Royal Fleet to return in triumph, with the _Black Pearl_ in tow. Instead, it had come limping back into the harbor like a wounded animal, with its sails torn and shredded, the mast broken in two and nearly a third of the crew dead. In fact, more had died on this expedition than had been killed on the mission to rescue Elizabeth.

The initial shock and horror of this unexpected event gave way all too quickly to rumors and suspicions. After all, Commodore Norrington was an expert seaman. Why would he have risked his men and his ship just to pursue an enemy vessel? True, many had wanted him to track down the _Black Pearl_, but since the _Dauntless _had come back damaged beyond repair, they were quite willing to blame the most convenient person.

If James heard any of the rumors, he didn't think too much about them. He couldn't afford too; there was already enough weighing on his mind.

He was deeply troubled by what had happened on the voyage. He had never intended to actually catch the _Pearl_; he had merely pursued them to keep up appearances. Truth be told, he had been glad when he had felt the wind the first signs of the hurricane; there would have been the perfect excuse to turn back, at least confidant that they had put in a good effort and couldn't be blamed for doing anything less than that.

Unfortunately, things hadn't gone exactly as planned. In fact, they had turned into a disaster. The blame, in truth, lay with is second-in-command, Lietanent Henry Gillette. When the _Black Pearl_ had been sighted, he had already begun to feel the warning signs of a great storm brewing. He had given Gillette specific orders that they were to pursue only as long as was safe. But, Gillette had disobeyed those orders and told the steersman to pursue the _Black Pearl_ straight into the storm. By the time that he had become aware of what was happening, the _Dauntless _had been unable to turn back. And the outcome had been obvious from there.

He could not deny his disappointment. He and Gillette had never been what could be called amazing friends, but he had always thought that he could trust Gillette. Now, he had found that trust shaken.

It had been nearly a week now. James knew what he had to do. He had given the matter long and hard thought. He had thought back upon the last few months, and he had seen a disturbing pattern in Gillette's behavior. This latest example of Gillette's disobedience was only the latest in that pattern, but it was the most serious. In light of this, James knew he had only one choice.

When Gillette came into his office, James couldn't help but notice that the Lieutenant looked anything but properly humbled. In fact, there was a decidedly haughty gleam in his eye. He didn't know what exactly Gillette was expecting from this interview , but it was obviously wasn't what he would be getting.

"Gillette," he began, after a moment of silence, "I have to tell that you have severely disappointed me. We have known each other for several years. You showed such great promise in our earlier days. Now, this latest scheme has effectively ruined any chances you might have had. You dishonored your oath. You acted in a manner that goes against everything that should be expected of a commanding officer, especially one of your rank and reputation."

Gillette face had faltered while he had been listening to this. He seemed completely confused at James' reprimand. "Sir, I'm not sure I understand…"

"Don't play the innocent with me, Gillette. It won't work. You know very well to what I am referring. You disobeyed my direct order to break off pursuit of the _Black Pearl_ once the conditions became too dangerous. Because of your foolishness, you put all of us at risk. The _Dauntless_ could very well have been destroyed, lost with all hands."

Gillette had managed to recover himself by this time, and the implied accusation in his voice was all too apparent in his next words. "I merely did what any _real_ officer of the Royal Navy would have done. We are supposed to pursue the enemy no matter what the cost. That is our duty. It would have been a disgrace to the Royal Navy if we had not pursued the _Black Pearl_."

James looked up, a dark light beginning to form in his eyes. "Was is not more of a disgrace that we came back to Port Royal crippled, a third of the crew dead, many more wounded? What was the honor in that Gillette? Tell me."

"Jack Sparrow sailed into the very storm you were afraid of entering."

"That is of no consequence to this conversation. Besides, Captain Sparrow no doubt knew that the _Black Pearl_ would have a far better chance of surviving that storm then the _Dauntless _had."

"There is no evidence that she did survive." interrupted Gillette.

"Let me finish. The _Black Pearl_ is smaller and far more maneuverable than the _Dauntless_. Had it come to a pitched battle on a good day, we would have defeated her. Jack Sparrow no doubt was aware of the capabilities of his own ship and wasn't counting that we would be foolish enough to follow him."

"Oh, so now I'm a fool for doing my duty?"

"Your duty? Gillette, I gave you a direct order."

"You did. But I know that you only gave it because we were in the presence of the crew, you didn't want them to panic. But I know that you are too much of an officer and a man to have allowed such an opportunity as what was given to us to be passed by. You didn't want to frighten them."

James could hardly believe what he was hearing. Had Gillette concocted such a ridiculous story in order to justify himself? What was even more disturbing was that he actually seemed to believe it. "Even if they had been frightened, they would have followed my orders, regardless of what they were. Gillette, part of being a good commander is knowing when to break off the chase. There is no glory in pointless heroics. That is what gets people killed, and death is one thing that must be avoided on such missions whenever necessary. The lives, the safety of your crew is a responsibility that cannot be taken lightly. That is the goal that must be pursued whatever the cost, Gillette, everything else is secondary."

"But, sir-"

James interrupted him. "But that is a lesson that I can see now that you have failed to learn, and I now begin to wonder if you will ever learn it. Besides, I did not ask to see you for you to justify your actions, I did so to inform you of the consequences." He stood up and continued, formally, "Lieutenant Henry Gillette, you disobeyed my direct orders. As a result, His Majesty's ship, the _Dauntless_ was nearly destroyed and damaged beyond repair, a disaster that cost an inordinate number of lives to be lost and even more to be injured. Your actions have gone against your oath and your duty as an officer, not to mention my opinion of you. In consequence, Henry Gillette, I hereby am stripping you of your rank, effective immediately, by the authority that I have as Commodore of the Royal Navy in the Caribbean."

Gillette was listening to this whole thing, growing more and more horrified. He clearly hadn't been expecting such an extreme action. When at last he spoke, his voice was hoarse with surprise. "Sir, I really must object…"

"The matter is not open for debate."

"Well, perhaps it should be open for debate." Gillette responded, his voice cold. "Do you honestly think that anything I did wrong deserved this?"

"Believe me, Gillette, I tried to find another way. Do you honestly think that I enjoyed having to do this? But I couldn't find any other way, your actions spoke for themselves."

Gillette came towards him and leaned on the desk. "My actions were in the service of a greater good, of tracking down a dangerous enemy. You of all people should support me in this. Your own family was killed by pirates. Perhaps your zeal for this mission has run out? Or perhaps you don't really want justice for your family's murderers?"

James' eyes came up very slowly, and he too leaned against the desk, so that their faces were mere inches apart. When he spoke, his voice was tense and low, signaling that he was dangerously close to losing his temper. "I draw the line at endangering my own men. I do not let my personal vendetta or ambitions blind me from my duty."

"I always respected you. Now, I begin to wonder if that respect, if that friendship was ever worth it. I should have known better than to think a middle-son of a middle-class merchant could ever have come to anything."

James withdrew and stared coldly at Gillette. "Bold words for someone who finds himself in your position." His eyes betrayed the depths of his anger and disappointment. It took all of his years of discipline to not pound some sense into his former lieutenant. He was beginning to wonder how he could ever have considered Gillette as a friend.

As is it was however, he and Gillette had nothing more to say to each other. "You're dismissed." He growled, coldly.

"Sir-"

"I said you're dismissed!" snarled James, his anger adding an extra edge to his voice.

Gillette knew better than to argue with James. Quivering with rage, he retreated from the office. James Norrington was left alone with his thoughts. He sank back into his chair, suddenly feeling very exhausted. So many things had happened in such a short span of time. He wasn't sure how he could make sense of it all. He knew that he had done his duty; he had had no choice but to let Gillette go. However, he was beginning to hate that word, duty. He was having a hard time remembering when it had caused him anything other than pain. Indeed, he was having great difficulty knowing at this point what his duty was supposed to be.


	7. Chapter 7: The Truth

Chapter 5: The Truth

James Norrington did not like looking back on that event of nearly ten months, especially in light of what had happened. He could not regret the choice that had led him to strip Gillette of his rank. Considering what he had seen of him in company with Beckett, James didn't want to consider the cruelty which Gillette might be capable of if given the chance. He had an uneasy feeling that is he had ignored his instincts and kept him on, the situation between them could have gotten out of control very quickly.

As it was, though, there wasn't much that he could do in the present circumstances with either Gillette or Beckett. The two wielded far more power than him at the moment. It was a truth that rankled him no end.

However, even with all the problems that Beckett and the East India Company presented to him, it couldn't take his mind off another problem, one that was far more troubling more: Emma.

Emma had been tight-lipped and withdrawn ever since Beckett had arrived at Port Royal. She hadn't seen him since the fiasco at the wedding, yet it was as if his very presence within a few miles of her was enough to set her on edge. She hadn't told him anything about why the very mention of his name could send her trembling. This was a side of Emma that he had never seen in all the years they had known each other, even before they were married.

Emma was certainly not what one would call spirited. But she was certainly not weak either. She was grounded, sensible and brave, in her own quiet way. She did not use swords or barbed witticisms to solve her problems, but she knew how to fight her own battles and did not shrink from them. This recent behavior was completely unlike her.

It pained him to see her like this, especially it didn't seem as if there was anything he could do lessen her pain. Ever since he had married her, he had questioned how he could ever have thought himself to be in love with Elizabeth. Emma was his rock, his soul-mate, in some ways, the very reason for his existence. She had been what he had always been searching for, even if he had not been aware of it. She was more than just his wife; she was his partner, lover, friend. Elizabeth may have tried to be some of those things, but she never would have been able to be all three at once. To the best of his ability, he tried to be just as much for her, but this seemed almost beyond him.

He was so wrapped up in thought, that he more or less rode his horse home on instinct from the meeting with Beckett rather than on conscious thought. As he dismounted and handed the reins to the waiting servant, he said nothing. And the servant, who saw the distracted, though still glowering look in his master's expression, wisely decide not to say anything.

As he entered the house, he was met by Lucy, Emma's maid, who looked as if she had been given a rather strange command. "Excuse me, sir, my mistress told me to inform you that she wants to see you in your room right as soon as you get back here, she ordered that nobody disturb you and sent all of the servants but myself and the cook home for the day. I do beg your pardon, sir, but it did strike me as if she were tryin' real hard not to be overheard by anybody."

James' eyebrows furrowed. This was indeed the strangest behavior of all that Emma had displayed. They were modest people by all accounts and most of the time, there would have been nothing for the servants to gossip about even if they had been inclined to do so. If Emma had something to say to him that she feared the servants would hear, than whatever was bothering her must have been serous indeed. He headed upstairs quickly. When he came to their room, he found her standing with her back to him, staring out the window which looked over the bay of Port Royal, as well as the surrounding city. She did not need to be told that he was there, and he didn't try to push her to tell him anything before she was ready. "I suppose you've noticed how I've been acting the past few days." She said, at last, without preamble.

"I would be lying if I said It hadn't escaped my notice." Said James, as he came towards her. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and turned her around to face him. He cupped her cheek with his other hand and asked her softly, "Dearest, will you not tell me? You know that I'll do anything to help you."

Emma didn't know how she could answer. Extracting herself from his arms, she walked away from him a little. "There is nothing you can do to help me, James. You cannot change the past."

"But can I not help you to face one of its ghosts." He followed her, and put his arms around her shoulders and asked, as gently as he could, "Its Beckett isn't it?"

He felt her stiffen, and at first he thought that he had something to frighten her, but when she spoke, her voice, though it might have held a note of trembling, it was more from anger than from fear. "Beckett, that no-good snake of a man?" It was the strongest insult he had ever heard her utter against another person, spoken in such a cold manner, he almost thought he was hearing it from a stranger. "Yes, it is him." Sighing, she sat down on the window seat. James sat down beside her, and waited. "I should have told you this a long time ago, but it was in the past. I thought that it was over and down with. But, now things have changed."

A long moment of silence past between them; he didn't try to press her, once started on something, Emma hardly ever backed down. She was going to tell him, no matter how difficult it would be for her. She had kept this hidden for far too long. "I was fifteen." she began at last, haltingly, "My mother was still alive, but influenza was beginning to take its' toll. We went for one last holiday together, to Bath. At least, I knew it was the last, thought I did not say anything about it at the time. I knew my parents weren't speaking of it because they didn't want us to know and Elizabeth was still too young to understand that mother was dying. It was in Bath that we first encountered Beckett, through a mutual acquaintance. Then, he was an up and coming member of the aristocracy, expected to go very far in a short amount of time. It came to be my misfortune that he was visiting Bath at the exact same time we were there."

She stopped and looked down at her hands. "Go on." Prompted James, gently.

"Beckett visited us many times, though he was only ever a common acquaintance. At least, that is how my father saw it. Beckett, I believe was looking for a way to gain more power and he saw a prime opportunity in courting my father's favor, and was hoping to use it to his advantage. He might have succeeded, too, had I been any more blind."

"You?" questioned James, unsure of what she was getting too.

"Yes, me. God forgive me, I nearly fell into his trap. You se, I was young, and though mature for my years, we all of us must act foolishly in youth. It is the only way we can become wise. And at that age, I was too foolish to see Beckett for what he was. He paid particular attention to me, and I was flattered by it, since I had never been treated in that way before. He can be quite charming when he wants to be. He took advantage of my poorly concealed interest, played me as if I were a fish and enjoyed every second of it."

"Are you actually telling me that you were in love with him?"

"In love, no. maybe a part of me wanted to believe I was. But I was at least aware of myself enough to know that I was not in love. And yet, the game of flirtation was so exciting that I didn't want to stop. I thought that he knew it was just a game, too. That's where I made my most grave error. For while, I was not in love with him, he was in love with me."

"What?" James was sickened by the very idea.

"Yes, in love with me, or as near as that evil man could come to it. He didn't just want the position that I represented, he also wanted me. One day, when he and I were alone, he actually proposed to me. I… I was too surprised to answer for a moment. I couldn't honestly believe at first that he was serious, but he was. There was a look in his eyes that I have never seen before or since. It was this awful combination of love and lust. I was frightened, more frightened then I ever had been before, or been since. I turned him down, it was the only thing I could do. He grew angry, and the charming mask he wore fell away, revealing all the fury of a demon. He took my arm, his grip like a vice and pulled me so close to him that I couldn't miss the rage that was in eyes."

'Oh, Emma, he did not…" he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence, let alone the thought. He was already beginning to feel protective. If Beckett had done anything at all to harm her…

"No, James, he did not. But it was forcibly conveyed. I know why he did not, now. He was wise enough to know that if he were to anything to harm me, he would answer for it or at the very least, his quest for power would be delayed. He also didn't want me anything but willing. He told me that he could see I wouldn't yield. But he wouldn't forget me, and there would come a time when I would be quite willing to have him, or he would have his revenge." Silence filled the space between them, as James digested what he had been told. "And now he has come back." She said quietly at last. "It has brought everything back that I have tried so hard to forget."

"I could kill him." said James, after a moment.

"James," said Emma, trying to calm him, but also surprised by the look of smoldering rage on his face.

But James didn't hear her. He surged to his feet and began pacing the room in frenzied agitation. "I could go over there right now and strangle the life from him."

"That would accomplish nothing, James, and you know it." She grabbed him by the arms and forced him to stop and look at her. "He's more powerful that you at the moment. If you do anything against him right now, you will pay for it too dearly. I am not going to lose you like that. Besides, even if you could do something, that is not you. You would not murder someone for the sake of vengeance."

James hated to admit that she was right, and yet every protective instinct that had gotten all the stronger since marrying Emma was screaming at him to make Beckett pay for what he had done. It was only after a long time of struggle that he finally got control of himself. He nodded to her in wordless assent to her desire. However, Emma could see that he wouldn't be letting this go so easily.

"What happened after all of this?"

I told my father everything that had happened. He immediately made arrangements for us to leave. He gave the excuse that it was mother's ailing health that called us back home. We returned back home to York, and my mother died only a few months later. After that, my father was appointed the new Governor of Port Royal. And then we came here. The rest I'm sure you can guess from there. And in all that time, I've never heard anything more from Lord Cutler Beckett, until now."

"Why did you not tell me all of this, long ago?"

She shook head, "I don't know. Perhaps, I just wanted to think that all of it was over. I was sad to leave England, but I must confess that all I could think of as I left was, 'Thank God, it's over. I won't ever see him again.' I thought that I would be out of his reach here. But I was wrong." She sat down on the bed beside her husband. As she leaned against him, and he put her arms around her shoulders, she continued speaking, "It's so strange. After a few months, I began to feel quite normal. I thought that the experience hadn't affected me, but I was wrong. It shaped me to become the person that I am. It's the whole reason that I became so quiet, withdrawn. You see, I protected myself in this cocoon of distant politeness, a warmth like the sun on a winter day, which many see and enjoy, but can't really feel. I only trusted a few people, only counted a few true friends. In fact, it was you who first helped me to learn to open my heart to another person, especially a man. I was alone and I didn't even know how miserable I was. It was only really thanks to you that I was able to truly love again."

James felt too overwhelmed to respond at first. What could you say to something like that?

"I promise you, Emma, I will do everything within my power to help you. He won't lay a hand on you while he is here."

Emma actually managed to smile and she borrowed a bit deeper into his arms. He felt so safe, and right now, she needed that feeling of comfort and security. "I won't lie to you, James. He still does frighten me. But I am not going to allow him a chance to rule my life once again. If anything, I will show him that I at least can face him again. A part of me wants to show him that he will never succeed with me and that I am so much more than he ever thought me to be."

James raised his eyebrows and smiled a little, "That sounds rather militant of you, Emma. Are you sure you haven't inherited some of Elizabeth's hot temper?"

Emma laughed. "I don't know, maybe it has. I just don't like thinking how this will end. I know at some point, somehow, I'm going to have to confront him."

James held her face between her hands, and gently kissed her forehead. "And when that time comes, when you need someone to watch your back,"

"You will be the first one that I call." She finished for him, as she brought her mouth up to meet his.

That small smile was still on Emma's face and the sight of relieved him no end. She looked a bit more like her old self. This burden still might be hers to bear, but he could tell that it had been lessened somewhat now that she had told him the truth. And now, they would be able to bear it, together.

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed this little peek into the background. Plus, who doesn't love James/Emma together? Better enjoy it while you can. There are some dark times on the horizon for some of our favorite couples and we are actually going to see some of that in the next chapter. So, be sure to read and review this chapter and look for the next parts to be up in the next few weeks.

Next chapter: Jack gets a surprise visitor in the form of an old friend, who just happens to be his father-in-law. What will happen when this visitor turns out to be an emissary from the devil?


	8. Chapter 8: The Emissary

Chapter 6: The Emissary

It's rather difficult to remain asleep when all that comes is troubled dreams, and if one is a light sleeper by nature, it makes sleep even more difficult. Add to this a worry about ones' married life and that makes getting a good night's rest next to impossible. Unfortunately, Marie was having that exact problem. At her best guess, she had remained asleep only a few hours. It was well past midnight by the time she awoke, and after tossing and turning for half-an-hour, she knew that there would be no chance of her falling asleep again that night. It was a disappointment, but not really a surprise to her, that she was still alone. Jack had not joined her.

She lay on her side, watching him through the doorway that separated their bedroom from the main part of the cabin. Jack was still hunched over the charts, and it seemed to her that he had not moved at all from where she had left him hours before. What on earth he could be finding in those charts that was so all consuming, she had no idea. What was he trying to find? What course was he setting, or rather, attempting to set? It seemed, from her vantage point, that the compass still was not cooperating.

She couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind at the moment. For all that Jack acted half drunk and half crazed sometimes, yet underneath that exterior was a mind as tricky and smart as anyone she had ever known. Jack seemed always to have some sort of plan to get out of a situation, and if a better opportunity presented itself in the very midst of those plans, he could alter his original strategy without so much as batting on eye.

She wasn't used to seeing him so indecisive. She was frankly curious as to what his mind looked like when he was uncertain.

She heard him tap at the compass impatiently. That didn't help much, apparently, as she heard him sigh in frustration and throw down one of his instruments in disgust. Then, he reached for the bottle of rum that was on the table. Unfortunately, when he tipped up the bottle for a drink, nothing came out. Turning it over, only a few scant drops of the reddish alcohol dripped down onto the table. "Why is the rum _always_ gone?" he asked, irritably. Despite her rather sour feelings regarding her husband at the moment, Marie had to smile to herself secretly in the darkness. She could have answered that question herself.

Jack got to his feet, and immediately stumbled. Grabbing hold of the table to steady his all too unsteady gait, the answer to his question came to him in much the same way that it had come to Marie. "Oh, that's why."

He moved out of her line of vision, and the next moment, she heard him leave the cabin. She didn't have to be in uncertainty as to where he was going. Jack enjoyed certain luxuries as captain. One of these luxuries was the right to carry the keys to the larders (also known as the rum cellars) of the _Black Pearl. _Being as the keys were a privilege of the captain, he never thought it wrong to take full advantage of it, even if done on the sly. After all, as he had said many times to her, "It's the crew who decides what rights the captain had. Therefore, it would be dereliction of my duty as a captain to not take any opportunities to enjoy those rights."

Marie waits a few seconds, until she was sure that Jack was gone, then she got up slowly and went to the door of the cabin. Opening it cautiously, she looked out to make sure that Jack had already gone belowdecks. There was no one on the _Pearl_'s swaying deck, and the only sound was that of the restless wind moaning through the tackle. Slipping out of the cabin, she made her way to the stairs that led to the semi-darkness of the crew quarters. Even on the deck, she could hear the snoring of the men, practically drowning out the sounds of everything else around her. And as she went deeper into the crew quarters, and sure enough saw that they were more or less conked out. Their snoring reverberated off the walls of the enclosed space to such a degree that Marie wondered why her teeth weren't beginning to rattle.

She still didn't see any sign of Jack as she descended deeper into the _Pearl's _hold, which was good. She had no desire that he _should_ see her, because then he would try to come up with some way to side step her questions and she was not interested in playing that game anymore. She was going to get some answers out of Jack tonight, whether by fair means or foul.

She continued down deeper into the hold, to the very bottom deck where the food and rum cellars war located. As she had expected the door was open a crack and apart from the normal sounds of the ship, she could hear the distinctive sound of Jack's tread and could just make out the flickering of a lantern beyond the door.

This far down in the ship, where sunlight was pretty much the same as moonlight, the light could play tricks with the mind, as could the creaking and groaning of the timbers and the subtly haunting sound of the sea's waters against the barnacle encrusted hull. If one didn't keep a firm hold of oneself, the imagination could begin to rule sense. Sounds could be imagined emanating from places where there was none and sights of ghosts could easily convince even the most skeptical that the _Pearl _still carried a touch of the supernatural about her, despite the change in her captaincy and her purpose.

Marie couldn't deny that she felt some uneasiness in the form of cold chills that crept down her spine whenever she had to venture this deep into the ship, but there was no such feeling in her tonight. There was only a strange sense of triumph. In that room, she knew that he would be cornered; there was only one way in and one way out. And she didn't intend to let him go until he told her everything.

Sneaking up to the door, she pushed it open as slowly and silently as she could. She saw Jack standing by the racks of rum, which were now nearly empty. He still hadn't noticed her.

"Now, I have you, Jack." She thought, as she began to move forward.

But, before she could say anything that would have alerted Jack to her presence, she witnessed a curious thing. Jack, scanning the racks for a spare bottle, finally spotted one. Looking quite satisfied, he pulled it out, only to find that instead of rum, it was filled with sand, which poured out of the bottle's mouth and pooled onto the deck.

Marie and Jack were both mystified as to the meaning of this. However, before either of them could consider anything, something else happened that neither of them had been expecting. For a voice suddenly issued from nowhere and it said, "Time's run out, Jack."

The voice was spectral, otherworldly and filled with dire warning. It still sounded human, but a human that was merely a husk, a body without a soul, surviving, not living. It was the most forlorn and yet most frightening sound that Marie had ever heard. But it stirred something else in her, too, a part she had not felt ever since she was a child. It sounded almost familiar, like the melody of a memory played from afar.

The voice startled Jack and he dropped the bottle that crashed to the deck, shattering into innumerable pieces. That voice, he knew that voice, even if it did sound distorted and aged beyond years. He never forgot the voice of an old friend. And it had emanated from within this very room. Holding the lantern up to his face, he took a few cautious steps into the gloom, trying to identify the origin of the voice. He did not have to look far.

Against the far wall were stacked various barrels and crates. Beside one of those barrels was a shadow that seemed to be no more than another piece of cargo. Jack had to look twice to see that it was no barrel or even a shadow, but it took the shifting light that fell upon that shadow to reveal just what, or rather, who it was.

It was a man, but it was unlike any man that Marie had ever seen. His skin was as white and pasty as a corpse, stretched over the contours of his face, as thin as paper. But even that would not have been enough to render Marie speechless, for it was what was on his face that shocked her most. Unless she merely imagining it, it looked as though sea creatures were growing from his skin and clothing. This man, whoever he was, was more one with the seas than she had ever thought possible. Last of all, but most striking were eyes, a reflection of his voice, lost, sad and alone. What was strangest, though, was that Marie felt that she should know who this person was, though she couldn't tell why.

Jack had to look hard, but he did know him. But how could he be here? He was supposed to be dead, thrown over overboard, at the bottom of the sea with cannon strapped to him. "Bootstrap?" he murmured, too surprised to say anything else, "Bull Turner?"

Marie's mouth dropped open when she heard this. Bootstrap Bill Turner? Her father? Jack was talking to his father? How was that possible?

Bootstrap smiled, though only slightly and sadly. When he spoke, seawater gushed from his mouth, though he seemed completely unaware of it. "You look good, Jack."

For the first time in his life, Jack Sparrow could not think of a single thing to say. He just stared at Bootstrap in open-mouthed shock. Bootstrap didn't seem to understand what was wrong. A long moment of silence followed, broken only by the creaking of the ships' hull. Finally Jack straightened and asked Bootstrap, "Is this a dream?" He almost hoped that it was.

Bootstrap looked around him, before answering, in an almost confused manner, "No."

Jack shrugged and sat down on one of the barrels opposite Bootstrap. "I thought not. If it were, there'd be rum."

As if that were a preplanned cue, Bootstrap raised his arm, his hand holding a bottle of rum. Jack's eyebrows jumped a few inches in surprise, wondering for a split-second if he really was dreaming. Cautiously, he reached out his hand and tried to take the bottle from Bootstraps' hands, a task that proved to be a little difficult to accomplish, since Bootstraps' hand was encrusted with barnacles, which were sticking as easily to the bottle as they did to the hull of the _Black Pearl_.

Once Jack had managed to pry the bottle from Jack's hand, Bootstrap looked about him in an almost wistful manner. "You got the _Pearl_ back I see."

"I had some help retrievin' the _Pearl_ by the way." Said Jack, as he brushed off some of the dust off the rim of the rum. Many people would have looked at the bottle with something approaching distaste, considering where is had come from. But it must also be granted that Jack was hardly most people. "Your son and your daughter."

Bootstraps' gaze met Jack's and for the first time, his eyes showed some signs of life. "William? Marie?" the way he said those two names was reverent, almost as if they were a prayer.

Jack almost choked on his first drink of rum as the full import of the situation suddenly struck him. Bootstrap wasn't just his friend anymore, he was his father-in-law and he was married to his daughter. What on earth would he say to that?

Bootstrap Bill continued, apparently unaware of Jack's odd behavior. "They ended up pirates after all."

"Except your boy seems to have inherited that honest streak of yours, an honest streak that invariably gets him into trouble."

"And Marie?" questioned Marie.

"Marie? Oh, well, she's, um, shall we say, more apt to find trouble than stumble into it unawares. She actually seems to thrive on it."

Bootstrap chuckled, "She always has."

"That explains a lot." Muttered Jack, unthinkingly.

'What?"

"Nothin'."

While this conversation had been going on between the two of them, the very person that they had been talking about was listening intently to everything that was being said. Marie had still not been noticed by the two men, as she crept silently into the room and hid in the shadows behind some of the cargo. She continued to listen in; she was not going not miss a word of this.

Jack continued, carefully sidestepping over the topic of Marie. He was not really sure he wanted to tackle that little subject until he knew just what was going on here. "And to what, may I ask, do I owe the pleasure of your carbuncle?"

Bootstrap leaned forward, all signs of the former life in his eyes now gone, replaced by a grim expression. "_He_ sent me." Jack looked at him, confused. Bootstrap didn't keep him in suspense for very long. "Davy Jones."

Davy Jones. Marie had heard that name before, in the pubs of Tortuga and other pirate ports all over the world. Davy Jones was supposed to be the ruler (some said the devil), of the high seas. He was the captain of the ghostly ship known as the _Flying Dutchman_, a ship that was able to fly through the ocean depths as easily as it could sail above the water. If you saw the _Flying Dutchman_, you never lived long to tell about it. Legends told of many terrible things that awaited anyone who was unfortunate enough to fall into Davy Jones' clutches. Marie, though she did enjoy these stories, had never believed them. She was a rational person, like her brother and was not easily given to superstition as most pirates were. So when she heard the name Davy Jones, her first inclination was to disbelieve it, but there was something in Jacks' reaction, that made her begin to wonder if there was perhaps more to the legend than she had originally thought.

Jack needed no explanation as to what Bootstrap meant. "Oh," he said, sadly. "So it's you, than. He shanghaied you into service, did he?"

"I chose it." Replied Bootstrap , and Jack couldn't tell whether he regretted it or not. "I'm sorry for the part I played in the mutiny against you, Jack." As Bootstrap continued, a crab scuttled past his elbow. Without so much as batting an eye, Bootstraps' hand shot out and trapped the creature. Lifting it to his mouth, he crunched down. He continued with his story, totally unaware of Jack's rather sickened reaction to what he had just witnessed. "I stood up for you, everything went wrong after that. They strapped me to a cannon. I ended up at the bottom of the ocean. I could feel the weight of the water crushing down on me, unable to move, unable to die, Jack." Bootstraps' blue eyes had a worn, pained expression to them, as if even that far away memory was to ghastly to even repeat, much less remember. "And I thought that even the tiniest hope of escaping this fate, I would take it. I would trade anything for it."

Jack handed Bootstrap the bottle and Bootstrap took a long swing. Jack was silent for a moment as he watched Bootstrap. So, this is what happened to those whose swore to serve under Davy Jones. Body and soul eaten away at, until nothing was left but a hollow shadow of humanity. He could see it in the lost empty gaze of Bootstraps' eyes; they looked so hauntingly like Marie's. He tried to imagine just what it was he would become if he were forced to serve Davy Jones and decided against. The prospect was too gruesome to even contemplate.

He knew or at the very least suspected what it was that Bootstrap was doing her, but he tried to ignore it, there was always a chance that he could wiggle out of the situation that ht was in. getting to his feet, he tried to act nonchalant about the whole state of affairs. "It's funny what a man will do to forestall his final judgment."

But Bootstrap was already unto him. Surging to his feet, he met Jack on the other side of the beam he had been circling. "You made a deal with him, too, Jack. He raised the _Pearl_ from the depths for you/ thirteen years you've been her captain."

"Actually-" said Jack, hoping that if he brought up the subject of the mutiny, it would uncover a loophole that would allow him to escape.

Bootstrap, however, was well acquainted with that little cleverness of Jack's personality, and he knew, from bitter experience that the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ never allowed such loopholes into the deals which he struck with his victims.

"Jack," said Bootstrap, chidingly, looking as if he hated the duty that he had been ordered to do. "You won't be able to talk yourself out of this." Bootstraps' voice was voice began growing in menace. "Jones' terrible levitation will find you. He'll drag the _Pearl _back to the depths and you along with it."

From her hiding place in the shadows, Marie had been listening to this whole thing with mounting horror. How could this be happening? It all seemed to her like some nightmare, but one that she could not wake up from. Jack looked like he was frightened, no terrified and growing more so by the moment. Judging from what she had seen and heard from her father (and she was still having difficulty wrapping around her mind around that), perhaps Jack had good reason to be terrified. But any sympathy she might have felt for his plight was swiftly being overtaken by feelings of anger and betrayal. How could her own husband not have told her about this? If he had felt he could trust nobody else, surely he could have trusted her. And what had ever prompted him to make a deal like this in the first place? Jack wasn't a fool (at least, she had never thought him to be a fool); why couldn't he have seen through a deal where all the advantage was so obviously with the other side? Thirteen years for a hundred? Even Jack should have been able to see that.

Jack's expression had lost its normally cocky sureness, replacing it was a look of fear, as unlike she had ever seen on him. "Any idea when Jones might release said terrible beastie?"

Bootstrap stared at Jack momentarily before shaking his head and saying, "I already told you, Jack; your time is up."

He lifted one of Jack's hands, in what was something less than a friendly handshake. He seemed to slap something into his hand, before closing it over into a fist. Then, he let him go and began to walk away. He seemed to resemble a mere ghost of a man, his task now done, he must now return to his grave, but his grave would offer no rest. "It comes now, drawn with ravenous hunger to the man what bears the Black Spot."

Jack opened his fist and stared at the palm of his hand. From her vantage point, Marie couldn't see Jack's hand, but what he was saw there seemed to scare him more than anything he had ever before seen in his life. His eyes were wide and unblinking, his mouth opened in wordless horror, and his heart, for a split second, seemed to have stopped beating.

He looked from his hand to the place where Bootstrap had been a moment before, but Bootstrap had vanished. Both Marie and Jack were too shocked to speak. Jack looked back at his hand, closed it again and stood stock still for a split-second, undecided and afraid. Then, he turned and bolted the lantern and rum completely forgotten in the wake of what had just happened. In his haste, he didn't see Marie, who was still in her hiding place, trying to recover from what she had just seen. She looked all around the dark room, fear sending cold chills skating down her spine. She suddenly felt as if a thousand pairs of predatory eyes were staring at her, assessing her as if she were prey. She had never been afraid of the dark, but now the only thing that she wanted to do was leave.

Rushing up the flights of stairs, she went from the bowels of the ship to the crew quarters a whole lot faster than she had first gone down them. She saw the crew, which had been rudely awakened by Jack's incessant orders, and who were now rushing around like chickens with their heads cut off. They were pulling on boots and shirts, stumbling over one another in their haste. It was by a sheer miraculous chance that she managed to pick a path through the chaos to the deck above her.

She came out onto the _Pearl_'s main deck, she found that the noise and chaos mirrored what was happening below her. She could quite clearly hear Jack, though, his panicked shouts rising over everything else. "Run 'em! Run! Keep running! Run as if the devil himself and itself were upon us!"

She couldn't see Jack anywhere. But then she saw Gibbs (who seemed at a complete loss as to what was going on. Hardly surprising given the circumstances), who was standing over by the mast, trying to get a glimpse of something. Jack peeked out from behind the mast and let out a frightened squeak when he caught sight of Gibbs. "Which port?" questioned Gibbs.

Jack was so terrified; his speech came out in a tangle. "I didn't say port, I said land. Any land."

Suddenly, Jack the Monkey swung down from out of nowhere and swiftly nabbed the hat from Jack's head. The monkey swung to the side, climbing in and out of the rungs of the rigging like a spider. He turned and hissed mockingly back at the hats original owner. Jack hissed comically back at the monkey. Had it been any other moment, Marie might have found the situation to be rather amusing, but this was hardly the time to break into hysterics of laughter. Besides, she wasn't in a very good humor as it was.

The monkey, not satisfied with just having possession of Jack's hat, tossed it overboard into the ocean. The whole crew rushed to the port side. "Jacks hat!" cried Gibbs. "Bring 'er about."

"No, no, leave it." Jack interrupted, still panicking. The entire, Gibbs and Marie (especially Marie), all froze and stared at Jack in dumbfounded shock. Besides the _Pearl_, Jack's hat was his most prized possession. Leaving it behind was something akin to sacrilege. However, Jack didn't seem to be thinking of that at the moment. "Run!" he repeated once more, before disappearing again.

The crew continued to stand hesitantly around, seemingly still unsure of what to do, before Gibbs ordered them gruffly, "Back to your stations, the lot o' ya." Broken from their trance, the crew obeyed, though still none of it made any sense to them.

Gibbs and Marie both followed after Jack. He had taken refuge beneath the stern's stairwell. He looked utterly frightened; there was a look in his eyes that Marie had seen before too many times in the last few months, when he always seemed to be afraid of something in the shadows that no one else could see. "Jack," said Gibbs.

"Shh." Silenced Jack, his eyes darting all about him, as if he expected some monster to jump out of the shadows and devour him.

Gibbs was obviously becoming tired of Jack's silent and flighty mood. He leaned in closer to him and whispered. "For the love of mother and child, Jack, what's comin' after us?"

'Nothin'." Said Jack, though he was thoroughly unconvincing.

"Jack…" tried Marie.

"No. there's nothin' comin' after us and that's it. End of argument." Jack ducked away from his two interrogators and disappeared into his cabin.

Gibbs and Marie stood without speaking to each other for a moment, before Marie finally said, "That does it." She said, as she headed for the cabin.

"Now, Marie," said Gibbs, trying to placate her, "ya really think that's such a good idea, after all you know what Jack is like when he's in one of his moods."

"I know all about his moods. I've spent the past year becoming intimately acquainted with his moods. I think that I am the best person to know what to expect when he _is_ in one of his moods. When he is in one of his moods, Gibbs, I think I would be the only one who would be able to get anything out of him. Now, get out of my way."

She strode past Gibbs, (who knew better than to try and tangle with Marie when she was in one of _her_ moods), without so much as a backward glance.

She found him exactly where she thought she would: hiding from an unknown terror in the darkest corner the cabin had to offer. "Jack," she demanded, "what is going on?"

Jack screamed, not having seen her. He whirled around and seemed to relax only slightly when he saw that it was only Marie. "I-I already told you, luv-"

"You've told me nothing." Said Marie, coldly. "You've been acting strange and secret for the past three months. You've shout out everyone, including me. And I won't stand for it anymore. What's going on?

Jack had stepped back a few steps; the force of Marie's words seemed to have stung him. But, after regrouping, he tried to push past Marie and to dismiss the matter at the same time. "Marie, there's really no need to-" However, both of his goals would prove rather fruitless to try and achieve, because Marie grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him to stand in front of her. "Jack, you're not going to get away that easily."

She was about to say more when her eyes caught sight of the white cloth that Jack had tied hastily around his left hand. She looked at this for a moment, than she glanced up at Jack's face, before turning her gaze back at his hand. The next instant, she began tearing at the cloth, stripping it away from Jack's hand.

"I really wouldn't do that if I were you." Said Jack, trying to stop her, but it was too late.

Marie ripped the cloth from Jack's hand and gasped. In the center of Jack's palm, a grotesque spot of black had sprouted, resembling the symptom of some terrible disease. She knew what the Black Spot meant: it was the sign of a wanted man.

She looked up at Jack once more. He was embarrassed, not to mention guilty. "Jack Sparrow," she said, tightly, "you had better start telling me everything, before I do something even worse to you than the ones that are looking for you have planned."

* * *

Hope that everyone enjoyed that. Be sure to review.

Next chapter: Will and Elizabeth share a tender farewell, before Will goes off to find Jack. And Emma has an encounter with Beckett, an encounter that will start off a deadly game of deception between the two of them, a game which only one of them will win.


	9. Chapter 9: Farewell

Hello there, everyone. Here is the next exciting chapter of Pirates. I just thought that a little intro might be necessary to explain something that I am doing in this story. I am going to attempt to show the great threat that Beckett represents in the Caribbean, not only to piracy, but just other normal people. I guess you could say that this is my attempt to give this story a little bit of grounding in reality, which is something that I wish the original movies had done. I have absolutely no idea if this is at all historically accurate, but this is fan fiction and this is Pirates of the Caribbean; I think a few liberties can be taken.

Anyway, that is part of what is introduced in this chapter, and is sort of followed through in subsequent chapters and in At World's End. Let me know what you think.

Now, enough of the banter. Enjoy!

Chapter 7: Farewell

Just two days before, Elizabeth Swann had been a blushing bride. She had been the center of attention ( though, whether or not she had actually wanted to be was a different story), and had been happily anticipating marriage to the man of her dreams. Now, she was experiencing a complete reversal of fortune. She was locked in a jail cell, accused of high treason against the Crown and could very well be facing the gallows. This was not exactly how she had been envisioning married life to be starting out, not that she was actually married in her first place.

When Emma came to visit her, she didn't bother hiding her relief. After she and Will had been arrested, she had been hustled off to prison, and had heard nothing of what had been happened since, either with Will or anyone else. However, what Emma had to bring her was anything but good news.

"He relieved James of his command?" she repeated, shocked.

Her sister nodded, grimly. "Yes. Not directly, of course. He's far too clever to try and take over the Royal Navy through direct means. He will find some way, though, of that I am certain."

"You really believe that he's trying to take control of the Royal Navy?"

"He's power-hungry, Elizabeth. He will stop at nothing until he achieves his goals. And it's not just the Royal Navy that he is looking to control. He and his soldiers have the authority to search any ship that enters the bay or docks at the arbor, even if it means searching by force?"

"Why? What would he hope to gain by that?"

Emma shook her head. "Any number of things. Smuggling is a common problem in the Americas; it is almost as common as piracy. But it has always been too big of an operation to control. From what James told me of his meeting with Beckett, the King doesn't seem to be too impressed with the way that things have been unfolding in the past few years. Beckett managed to convince that the only thing to do was to give him absolute control over the affairs in the Caribbean. He has permission from the Crown itself in order to do so, it seems by whateverr means neccessary."

"What has he been doing to enforce these new restrictions? He can't search every ship that comes into port?"

"He thinks he can. Every ship, merchant or otherwise, in the Caribbean is now under the control of the East India Trading Company. They're required to ship only items that carry the EITC seal, and they face stiff fines if they don't obey or are caught smuggling. I've heard that there are other fees being talked of, berthing fees, port tariffs, pilotage. Beckett is moving to have the sanctions placed upon all the ports in the New World, possibly in the North American colonies, as well. Of course, those are just rumors."

"But that's directly against our laws. We are British citizens. New taxes, new laws like these can't be enforced upon us without-"

"'A response to the especial state of emergency in the Caribbean.' That's how it was put. If you ask me, it will only bring trouble, not a solution. Fines alone cannot stop the crimes, but I don't think Beckett will be content to just stop with fines. I suspect that along with his other powers of office, he's been granted the authority to punish any person who resists."

Elizabeth looked worried. "But what does any of this have to do with Will and I? Why did it have to be now of all times that Beckett should choose to come?"

"I don't know Elizabeth." Emma reached a hand through the bars to put a comforting hand on her sister's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth, truly I am. I wish so many things had worked out better for you. You and Will deserved to your own day; you've both been through so much."

Elizabeth tried to smile bit it was a failed attempt at trying to be optimistic. "All I wanted was to get married. There have been so many delays; so many obstacles seemed to be thrown in our path. Now, I'm beginning to wonder if I will be able to call myself Mrs. Turner."

Emma moved her hand to raise her sister's face, until they were staring straight into each other's eyes. "Don't give into despair or doubt, Elizabeth. Neither emotion has any place in love, especially not the kind of love that binds you and Will together. If you begin to think in such terms, then it's true that nothing will work out for you. Besides, when have you ever been one to give up?"

A genuine smile, however, small lit Elizabeth's face this time. "You sounded almost exactly like mother when you said that."

Emma smiled in response. She was used to being compared to her mother, though Elizabeth had been the one who had inherited her mother's feisty nature. "I wish she were here, now. Her wisdom might now be of great help to me, in more ways than one."

Before Elizabeth could respond, there was suddenly a commotion in the stairwell that led to the cells. An instant later, Will burst into the corridor. His eyes immediately settled on the woman he loved. Going to her at once, he didn't even heed the guard who was posted right beside the stairs when he said, "Here now, he can't be here."

Emma saw her father, who was right behind Will, stopped the guard with an upraised hand. "I think you'll find he can."

"Mr. Swann…" tried the guard, but Weatherby's head whipped around and pierced the guard with his gaze.

"_Governor _Swann, still," said the Governor, forcefully, "Do you think I wear this wig to keep my head warm?"

That effectively silenced the guard and he turned away from the scene, for how long, Emma was not certain, but she was grateful. At least Elizabeth and Will would be able to talk without being disturbed. To further that, she moved off a little ways, but still listened with half an ear to what was being said.

"Jack's compass?" questioned Elizabeth, once Will had finished informing her of Beckett's deal, "What does Beckett want with that?"

Will shook his head. "Does it matter? I'm to find Jack and convince him to return to Port Royal; in exchange the charges against us will be dropped."

Emma found herself silently questioning the wisdom of what Will was saying. He didn't know Beckett's duplicitous nature as she did. But before she could voice her suspicions, her father interposed, "No, we must find some other avenue to secure your freedom."

Will turned his piercing glance on Weatherby. "Is that a lack of faith in Jack or in me?"

"That you would risk your life to save Sparrow's does not mean he would do the same for anyone else." Answer Weatherby. Looking around him, he asked, as if to get them off the subject of Jack, "Now, where's that dog with the keys?"

Elizabeth leaned in closer to Will and stroked his face tenderly. "I have faith in you." She assured him. "Both of you. Where will you find him?"

Will took only a second to respond before saying, "Tortuga. I'll start there and I won't stop searching till I find him. Then, I intend to return here to marry you."

Elizabeth smiled with a trace of irony. "Properly…"

Will leaned forward and said, in a softly seductive whisper. "Eagerly if you'll still have me."

Elizabeth leaned towards him as well as she replied in the same vein, "If it weren't for these bars, I'd have you already."

A loud clunk broke into their semi-private conversation. The two looked up only to see that the Governor had broken off a piece of candelabra that was on the wall and Emma was regarding them with a slightly amused smile and a raised eyebrow. Either way, it was an indication that their time was running short.

"I'll wait for you." Said Elizabeth, softly.

"Keep a weather eye on the horizon." Will whispered back, leaning forward until he was up against the bars, remaining rooted to the spot for only a split-second longer before he tore himself away. Elizabeth's lips grazed the bars of her cell, leaving her with a bitters taste in her mouth that was not all from the rusted metal.

Will rushed past the Governor without giving him as much as a second glance, and ran up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time in his haste. Weatherby only paused a moment, before following after Will. Emma couldn't help but notice that thoughtful, troubled look on his face; she didn't like to think what he might be thinking of doing.

Elizabeth looked over at Emma. "Do you think he can do it?"

Emma considered the question, choosing her words carefully before answering. "Do I think that he will find Jack? Yes. Do I think that Jack can be persuaded to help you? Yes. Do I think that Beckett will uphold his end of the bargain? That I am less sure of."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Do you seriously think that Beckett would do that?"

"I don't doubt it for a moment."

"What about Will?"

"He'll find you a way, I'm sure. But be wary, Elizabeth. Suspicion is becoming a way of life lately. I'm afraid that I have to leave you. I don't want to overstay my welcome." She cast a glance at the guard who was looking increasingly impatient.

"I will be all right." Said Elizabeth, "It's only a prison. Besides the smell, the rats, and the food, it's almost like home."

Emma had to smile at Elizabeth's sarcastic remark. "I'm glad that your sense of satire hasn't been damaged by this event."

"Not yet it hasn't."

Emma put her hand through the bars and said, "I will come back to see you as soon as I can."

Elizabeth took hold of her hand in a grip that belayed her outward show of confidence. Emma knew that Elizabeth was frightened, both by what had happened and what would happen but she also knew that Elizabeth was strong enough to overcome it

"Give my love to James." Said Elizabeth.

"I will. God be with you, Elizabeth."

Emma left her then. For Elizabeth, guilty of no crime, she had no more certainty of what the future held for herself and all those that she loved.

* * *

As Emma left the lower levels of Fort Charles, she encountered the last person on earth that she had ever wanted to see again, but who seemed fated to meet her at every turn. "Ah, Mrs. Norrington. What an unexpected pleasure."

She heard that deceptively charming voice behind her she didn't know where he had come from, but it made no difference. She kept walking, trying to pretend as if she hadn't heard him. but one of the things that made Beckett a particularly dangerous enemy was that he seemed to be able to see through any deception or charade of human nature, no matter how well concealed.

"You can keep walking, Mrs. Norrington, but it does no good pretending."

Emma stopped. She couldn't outrun him, but if she had to meet him, she was determined that she would not be afraid.

Turning slowly to regard him with a look of pure ice, she said, "Is it so surprising, sir, that I should want to visit a sister who is in captivity, a captivity which, I might add, comes from your order."

Beckett, dressed in his normally impeccable style, appeared from out of the shadows. He was eyeing her as a predator would a defenseless prey. But she intended to show him she was anything but defenseless. "As I said, Mrs. Norrington, a grievous and most unpleasant task for me to execute, but it had to be done for justice's sake."

"It was hardly justice." Said Emma.

"I would beg to differ, madam. The laws of the realm are perfectly clear on this matter. Your sister and her fiancée are under a death sentence unless, of course, Mr. Turner recovers what I have asked him to find."

"Jack Sparrow's compass, you mean." She noted with a sense of triumph that she detected a perceptible change in Beckett's expression, as if she had caught him off guard. "Don't look so surprised, my lord." She said, "I happen to know of the little mission that you sent Will on. Though I can hardly guess what you hope to gain by it."

"We all have our secrets, do we not, Mrs. Norrington?"

He was clearly baiting her, trying to see if she would reveal anything that could be used against her in the future. But she wasn't going to be caught so easily. "Than you must keep your secrets, as I will keep any that I have. But perhaps you could tell me why I was able to see my sister without any objection, while my father and Will had to fight to see her?"

"I should think that would be obvious. It was a gesture of good will to you."

"If you are trying to make amends you should have extended that same courtesy to my family."

"Do you honestly think that I have any interest in the good opinion of your family? There is only one that I have ever been truly interested in."

Emma recoiled from him as she would from a diseased object. That look in his eyes, she had seen it only once, so many years ago when he had proposed the odious idea of marriage. It was love and lust, combined in deadly combination. "My lord," she fairly hissed, "I am a married woman."

"Oh, Emma, Emma…"

"Mrs. Norrington, that's my name and I'm proud of it. And it's the only name that it's proper for you to call me by."

"Emma," he persisted, continuing as if he had not even heard her, "you must have seen how I feel for you. They have not faded with time's passing. I am offering you a chance to receive the life that you have always dreamed of; perhaps even a chance to free your sister."

Emma drew herself up to her full height. She was not afraid of this disgusting man any more. The only thing that she now felt now was anger. "If you even think that I am tempted by your offer, my lord, then I'm afraid that you will be highly disappointed. You have only inspired disgust in me from the moment that you set foot upon this land, and do not expect those feelings to change."

"You once found me attractive."

"That was before I found out who you really are?"

"And what am I, Emma?" he asked, stepping closer to her.

"Where do I start? A snake, a weasel, a spider who takes inhuman pleasure in the suffering of others. Near a hundred things that I can't bring myself to name."

Beckett regarded her for a moment before a smile of lascivious pleasure slithered across his mouth. "Charming even in the midst of such passionate emotion. You've gotten some fire in you since the last time we met." He reached up his hand to stroke her hair, "I cannot say why, but I now find you not just attractive, but completely irresistible."

Emma could stand no more. A savage strength she had never felt the like of before suddenly surged through her veins. Her hand shot up, grabbed Beckett's wrist in a vice-like grip, preventing him from going any farther. She wouldn't have known what to do next if pressed, but it accomplished what she wanted it too. Beckett's face flashed with shock, and for the first time, he looked at Emma in true amazement. He had no doubt thought that her "charm in such passionate emotion" would lead to such an action.

Emma spoke in a cold, hard voice that sounded alien even to her own ears. "Be warned, Beckett. Do not underestimate me. I am not the girl that you once knew. I have changed beyond anything you would ever be able to understand. I know your ways, Beckett, but if you hurt my husband, my sister, or anyone else who is close to me, I swear that you will live to regret it."

The standoff go wills continued for what seemed an interminable amount of time. But, slowly, very slowly, Beckett's face began to return to its normal, mask–like politeness. He may have been surprised by Emma, but he had heard so many threats in his life, that it took more than idle words to truly faze him. Nevertheless, he was wise enough to acknowledge a true opponent when he saw one. "You know this is not the end?"

Emma sighed grimly, "Yes. But at least now you have some idea of who it is that you're against. I have known for a long time." Then with one last, long stare, she released him, turned and walked away.

The war had yet to be won, but she knew, as did Beckett that she had won the battle.

* * *

Well, I hope that everyone enjoyed that. Please read and review, as always. I love hearing what other people think. Let me know especially what you think I am doing with Beckett. it's just my effort to make him even more despicable.

Next chapter: Will begins his search for Jack, and winds up with some unexpected results. And of course, once he actually finds him, he comes to the realization that finding Jack was the easy part, dealing with him in a sane and coherent manner is next to impossible. (Beware! There be cannibals ahead.)


	10. Chapter 10: The Search

Chapter 8: The Search

There could, of course, have been no doubting Will's determination to find Jack out. He said that he would start at Tortuga and from there, nothing would stop him until he had fulfilled his quest. Unfortunately for him, he going to find the accomplishment of such a task easier said than done.

He found out quickly that there were a thousand rumors circulating about Jack Sparrow, but nobody had any idea of his specific whereabouts.

"Captain Jack Sparrow?" was the skeptical reply of one of the first captains he asked, "Owes me four doubloons. 'eard 'e was dead."

He did learn other interesting bits of information in his quest. Namely about his sister, Marie, or as she had come to be known in many circles, Lady Sparrow. Evidently, her reputation had arisen to a par with Jack's own. Everywhere he went, he encountered some different story. These stories ranged from Marie getting into trouble and Jack having to save her, to Jack having his neck saved by Marie.

As one fisherman also informed him, Marie had also picked up some of Jack's infamous drinking habits. "Singapore, that's what I heard. Drunk, both of 'em, with smiles aplenty on both their faces. Sure as the tide, Jack Sparrow an' 'is lady, turn up in Singapore."

All of this, though very interesting, was of no help to Will in the long run, since every person said something completely different from everyone else.

He was no luckier with Tortuga's infamous ladies of the evening. "Jack Sparrow?" A blonde had said in response to his question.

"Haven't seen 'im in a month." Replied her red-haired companion.

"When you find him will you give him a message." With that, the blonde delivered a harsh slap to Will's cheek. Apparently, Jack had become very unpopular with the ladies. Not that he had ever been very lucky in that quarter for the most part anyway.

He also soon found out the reason why. For the past year, Jack had more or less disappeared from the sights of Tortuga's prostitutes. He heard some rather interesting complaints on this score, namely that he now only had eyes for Marie, who hadn't taken well to his former lifestyle of persnickety attentions to a different woman every night. Yet another rumor which came to his ear was the story that she had confronted him with a choice: either he stopped his gallivanting, or she was leaving him, after depriving him of that which had been responsible for their separation, of course. Jack, either out of love, fear of being a eunuch for the rest of his life, or possibly a combination of both had capitulated and now Marie alone was enjoying his attentions at night. Because of that, she had earned a nasty reputation from Tortuga's prostitutes, whose loss was more from financial loss than any sense of emotional attachment. Thanks to Marie, they had lost one of their best paying costumers. However, this news came as something of a relief to Will; whatever Jack's shortcomings, he had at least remained faithful.

What Beckett had told was indeed true: The rumors were all over the Caribbean. There was, he had to admit, another reason why he had agreed to Beckett's demand, besides the obvious reason for Elizabeth's safety, was also the fact that he would be able to see Marie again and then he could get the true story of what had happened during the last year. And the fact that there were so many rumors was actually a comfort in some ways. After all, someone had to start those rumors, and who better to do so than Jack and Marie, who were the best at concocting such outrageous stories about themselves in the first place?

At last, after a long and frustrating search, he finally came across who seemed to know something beyond just hearsay and gossip. "Canna say about Sparrow," he said, as he weaved his nets with a piece of bone, "but there's a' islan' just sout' of de straits where I trade spice for 'lecious long pork. Canna say about Jack, but you'll find a ship there, a ship wid black sails."

Will had to admit that he did not like the look of the captain, who seemed to be more at home on the illegal side of things. But as it was, he had no choice.

The captain proved to be right. The _Black Pearl_was unmistakable, beached as it was on the shore well above the tideline. Both ship and the beach appeared to be deserted, which struck Will as being a little odd. Nevertheless, he knew that wherever the _Black Pearl_ happened to be, Jack couldn't be very far away.

Unfortunately, Will's mistrust of the captain's shifty motives proved to be right. Once the captain's brother (who conveniently didn't speak one word of English) refused to take any more than half a league from the shore, Will know that he was on his own.

He dived from the longboat into the water and swan strongly through the waves until he got to the shore. Looking around him, he could still see no one.

"Jack!" he yelled up to the silent deck. "Jack Sparrow! Marie! Marty! Cotton!"

He received no answer except the echo of his own voice. The beach was empty. He would have to go deeper into the forest.

As he approached the lush tropical jungle that covered the island, there was a flash of brightly colored feathers, and Cotton's parrot appeared from nowhere and landed on a stomp a few feet from Will was standing.

"Ah, a familiar face." Said Will, relieved to see the parrot. .

However, what the parrot said next was completely unexpected. "Don't eat me."

Will's forehead furrowed in confusion. "I'm not going to eat you."

"Don't eat me.' repeated the parrot.

"Look," said Will, his annoyance getting the better of him, "You're only bones and feathers and you probably taste like pigeon."

"Don't eat me."

He suspected that he wouldn't be getting much of anything useful from the parrot, so he continued on his way. The beach soon fell away from sight and he was surrounded by tall green tropical plants, so high and dense that in some places, they blocked out the sunlight. There were also no jungle sounds, no birds, monkeys or insects, except for the sound of Will tramping through the forest, nothing except for the eerie silence all around him.

That was enough to keep him on his guard, though truth be told there was nothing he could do except keep going forward. He really didn't know where he was going. He didn't even know if he was going in the right direction. But, than again, probably any decision he made at this point would have had something wrong about it.

He had been going for almost half-an-hour, when he saw something out of the corner of his eye that made him stop. There, hanging from a branch was a flask that looked very familiar.

"Gibbs." He murmured, taking the flask in his hand to study it more closely. He must be on the right track.

Then, he noticed that the cap of the flask had a thin, but tough piece of vine attached to it. The vine was threaded through the trees like a piece of string. Will followed the trail (for no particularly good reason that can be stated), deeper into the forest. The place where the trail led was a dead end, surrounded by trees. The vine rope came to an end. Will looked at the end in puzzlement. What could this mean? (AN Obviously, Will has never learned the first lesson on surviving on a seemingly deserted island: when faced with a rope trail in the middle of a forest, run as fast as possible in the opposite direction.)

Suddenly, he saw something move to the right. He looked, only to see a pair of eyes staring right back at him. The eyes almost looked as if they belonged to tree, but Will instantly saw that they belonged to a man, that looked exactly like the tree.

The man, realizing that he had been discovered, let loose a sound that was somewhere between a bark and a growl. Will gasped in surprise and the next thing he knew, he was flying backwards. He suddenly found himself hanging upside down by one foot. All around him, the forest started to come to life. People, camouflaged with paint to look like the foliage around them, stepped from their hiding places, surrounding their catch with triumphant shouts and snarls. They tried to get closer, poking at him with their spears.

Will, however, had seen and fought skeletal pirates without any sense of fear. So, trees coming to life and proving to be people wasn't enough to scare him. He drew his sword and began thwacking the spears around him. "Come on! Let's go! Come on, who want it. I could do this all day."

The cannibals (for such were these strange people), surprised by this odd behavior, all stopped their caterwauling and just stared at him. They all exchanged glances, until one young cannibal raised a blowpipe to his lips and taking arm, fired.

The dart hit Will in the neck and it instantly took effect. He was unconscious before he even knew what hit him.

* * *

The first thing Will was aware of when he came too was the thoroughly uncomfortable position that he was in. His hands and feet were tied to a stake and he was hanging from it like a piece of meat.

The first thing he saw was, to his complete and utter surprise, was Jack Sparrow. He had to look twice, because Will had to admit that he looked uncommonly silly. A big, green bug had been painted on his nose, along with three eyeballs on each cheek. He worse some type of feathered crown on his head and a feathery scepter (no doubt both pieces of ornamentation made from the same unfortunate bird) clutched in his hand. Nonetheless, he was Jack Sparrow sure enough.

"Jack?" he said, groggily, "Jack Sparrow? I can honestly say that I'm glad to see you." And he was. Jack had obviously been made chieftain. He would be able to help him.

However, Jack was staring at Will blankly, as if he were a complete stranger. Getting up from his throne, he approached Will cautiously, poking him in the shoulder as if he were some strange, undefinable specimen of, well, something.

Will began to panic. Did Jack recognize him? "Jack, it's me. Will Turner!"

Jack acted as if he hadn't heard him, but instead sidled up to the cannibal who seemed to be in charge and said, boldly "Mase ko?"

It was Will's turn to look blank. What had he just said?

Nonetheless, the cannibal seemed to understand what Jack said. "Eein dad, iseepee!"

"Iseepee." Agreed all the rest as they bowed their heads ceremoniously.

"Tell them to let me down!" repeated Will

Jack still didn't respond directly. He looked rather incredulous by what he had just heard the cannibals say. "Kay lay lom. Lom picky-picky. Lam eenice-weencie." He under the stake to look at Will's backside. The cannibals all leaned forward, as if awaiting some grand judgment. "Lam say say eunochie, snip snip."

All the cannibals seemed to understand perfectly what this meant. They all nodded their heads sagely, as they repeated in unison. "Ah, eunochie."

Jack, having apparently made his point, turned around and strode regally back to his throne. Will was starting to panic. When he spotted the compass dangling from Jack's belt as he passed him, he called out desperately, 'Jack, the compass, that's all I need. Elizabeth is in danger! We were arrested for trying to help you. She faces the gallows.

Jack paused, then turned and said quickly to the lead cannibal. "Seiserom shup shup sha smame mame shuku, savvy?" The cannibals looked at each other. Jack flapped his hands at Will, motioning them take him away. "Mo likki likki."

The cannibals seemed to consider him this, before the leader shouted, "Mo likki likki!"

The cannibals began chanting and carrying Will off to an unknown fate. As he was carried past Jack, the reluctant chieftain whispered to him frantically, "Save me!"

Will couldn't believe his ears. Jack needed saving? He was the one who needed saving. And there were bigger things at stake then just his own personal safety. If Jack wouldn't acknowledge him, how would he get the compass, and if he didn't get the compass, how would he be able to save Elizabeth?

"Jack, what did you tell them?" He screamed in complete exasperation. He should have known from the start that finding Jack would be the easy part. Actually dealing with him would be next to impossible. "What did you tell them? What about Elizabeth? Jaaack!"

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed that. As always, read and review.

Next chapter: Marie and Will share a reunion after a year apart, only it is hard to have a meaningful reunion when your hung out to dry and are on the dinner menu.


	11. Chapter 11: Hung Out to Dry

Chapter 9: Hung Out to Dry

Marie had certainly found herself in better circumstances. She had been held captive before, but never in such a bizarre, (not to mention uncomfortable) manner. She and the rest of the crew that had managed to survive the fire pit were literally being hung out to dry, secured in big, round cages made of bone, that were suspended above a seemingly bottomless ravine. Needless to say, it had been an interesting time.

"Marie, ya hear that?" asked Gibbs, as they began to hear the approaching yelling and hollering of distant cannibals, coming steadily closer.

"Unfortunately, I do."

"They must be comin' to get another entrée before the great feast. Either that or they're bringin' someone new. They always are lookin' for new delicacies."

"Perhaps, I don't want to think about it either way. But we'll be having a new visitor in awhile. How charming, it's always so pleasant to meet new people." There could be no missing the sarcastic note in Marie's tone.

However, when this new prisoner was dropped into the cage beside her, it was nothing short of a surprise.

"Will?!" She said, in complete surprise.

"Marie?" Said Will, as he recognized his twin sister.

Of course, having been separated for a year, and as close as these two had been, this was a very pleasant surprise, in a very unpleasant situation.

Awkwardly, the two embraced. "Oh, Will, I'm so glad to see you. Even if this isn't the best place for a reunion."

"Still, in any place I would be glad to see you." Will said with a grin. He took the opportunity to take a closer look at his twin. "You've changed."

It was very true what he said. Marie probably wouldn't have noticed anything different in her appearance. She had never been that much concerned with such frivolous things anyway. But, Will could very clearly see it. Her skin had tanned, and glowed with an inner health and vitality. Her hair was no longer tied back in a braid, but was now loose and windblown, though she hadn't yet taken to Jack's habit of sewing trinkets into her hair. But, her most striking feature was her eyes. A wild untamable light danced in the blue-green depths; Will was able to see at once that her life as a pirate had made her even more spirited and wild than she had been before. Life at sea obviously agreed with her.

"You haven't changed a bit." Said Marie, perhaps totally unaware of half of what will was saying. "You're probably still that same earnest blacksmith who's willing to do anything to save the woman he loves. What are you doing our here on an island that's miles from nowhere?"

"It's a long story." replied Will, "To make it short, Elizabeth is in danger and I have to rescue her."

Marie shook her head. "I was right, you haven't changed at all. Tell me, how does captured by cannibals fit into your plans?"

"To be perfectly honest, I hadn't planned on it at all."

"Neither did the rest of us." Said Gibbs, "But Jack I don't think thought it would turn out this way, either."

Marie snorted in derision. "Still, you can thank him for this lovely little mess we're in."

"How?"

"Jack told me the story. He was shipwrecked on this island and he somehow managed to convince the Pelegostas that he was a god in human form. They made him chief. When he left them, he told them he would be returning on a magnificent ship that was as black as midnight. It made for an entertaining story. Needless to say, actually experiencing it is less than charming."

"He acted like he didn't even know me. It can't have been that long."

"Jack had to do that to keep him influence over the tribe. What did they say, by the way?"

Will gave her a brief run down on what he had heard the cannibals saying and when Marie took a few moments to interpert the words in her own mind. "Well, it might actually have been in your interest that Jack sent you to the cages."

"Why?"

"It's no use being modest. You're a handsome man, Will. They were going to eat your manhood."

"Eat my what?" Will was confused at first, but when Marie gave him a meaningful look, he suddenly realized what she was implying. "Oh, that."

"Yes, you have Jack to thank for saving your life, as hard as that may be for you to believe, and for however short your life might turn out to be."

"The same be true for all of us, Marie," Said Gibbs, "as hard as that is for _you_ to accept."

"But, how could he do this to us? If Jack is the chief-"

"Aye, the Pelagostas made Jack their chief." Agreed Gibbs, "But he only remains a chief as long as he acts like a chief."

"Than he had no choice; he's a captive than as much as the rest of us."

"In a manner of speaking." Concurred Marie, who despite her differences with Jack of late, she was still worried about him.

"And it gets worse, as it turns out." continued Gibbs, "Ya see, the Pelagostas believe that Jack is a god in human form and they intend to do him the honor of releasing him from his fleshy prison." As if to illustrate this fact, the silent Cotton grabbed Gibbs and bit down hard on his fingers. Gibbs obviously didn't appreciate this gesture and after gasping in pained surprise and swearing down a few curses down on Cotton's head, resumed his story. "They'll roast 'im and eat 'im."

Marie shuddered. The very idea of eating another person (and Jack in particular), made her sick to her stomach.

"Where's the rest of the crew" Will asked.

"These cages we're in," replied Gibbs, morbidly, "weren't built till after we got here."

Will, who had been holding onto the cage bars, suddenly let go and looked at the bars with evident distaste.

Gibbs continued as drums began to be heard in the distance. "The feast is about to begin." He turned his gaze on Marie and Will, "Jack's life will end when the drums stop."

Will felt sympathy for Marie's predicament, but, he was not one to simply lie down and surrender without a fight of some sort, especially when life involved him getting shot, stabbed, or in this case, roasted and eaten. "Well, we can't just sit here and wait than, can we?"

"What do you propose we do?" asked Marie, rather skeptically.

"I have a plan."

"That doesn't surprise me; do you care to let us in on what it is?"

"You're not going to like it."

Marie smiled sourly. "That's hardly surprising. I swear between you and Jack, I've spent over half my life having to somehow pick up the pieces from your hair-brained schemes."

* * *

While dinner on the island of the cannibalistic Pelagostas was attempting to escape, somewhere at sea, two fugitives of justice were in the process of escaping themselves.

Their names were Pintel and Ragetti. A year before, they had been cursed crewmembers aboard the _Black Pearl_; not to long ago, they had been prisoners due for hanging. How they managed to escape from prison and why they were now in a rowboat in the middle of the ocean with no food and water is a story for another time. Simply put, they were in trouble.

Pintel, as usual, was doing the heavy labor of rowing the boat, while Ragetti was sitting opposite him and reading from a large book; he was also in the process of providing his own unique form of intellectual enlightenment.

"Well, I say, it was divine providence wha' escaped from jail."

"An' I say it was me bein' clever." replied Pintel, in his normally grouchy manner. He glanced behind him. "Ain't that right, poochy?"

As if on cue, a furry, grey dog popped up in the front of the boat, clutching a ring of keys in his mouth. He didn't exactly seem thrilled to be in his present position.

Ragetti had a quick answer for Pintel. "Well, 'ow do you know it wasn't divine providence wha' inspired you to be clever. Anways, I ain't stealin' no ship."

"It ain't stealin'," said Pintel, as if the distinction should have been obvious. "It's salvagin'. And since when did you care?"

"Since, we're not immortal, no more. We got to take care of our immortal souls."

"Ya know ya can't read."

Ragetti beamed his companion to rather annoyed look. "It's the bible, ya get credit for tryin'."

Pintel threw the oars down and leaned forward. "Pretendin' to read the bible's a lie. That's a mark against…" He pointed up above him.

Ragetti closed the book, ready to continue the argument vehemently in support of his own unalterably correct position when the dog suddenly began barking. Turning to look in the direction they were heading, they both were stunned by what they saw: there, on the beach of the island they hadn't noticed because they were to busy arguing, was the _Black Pearl_, beached, and what was better yet, deserted.

Before either of them could speak, the dog gave a nervous bark, leaped out of the boat and began paddling for the shore. Ragetti looked at his companion. "What's got into 'im?"

Pintel shrugged. "Must 'ave seen a catfish."

It took Ragetti a few seconds to get Pintel's "brilliant" joke, but once it dawned on him, he laughed as hardly as Ragetti and even shouted, "Stupid mongrel."

It didn't occur to either of them that there are not catfish in the sea, thus making Ragetti's joke rather dull-witted, nor that the dog might actually have been smarter than either of them combined at that particular moment in time.

The two of them then began arguing as to how best to land. The ocean decided that issue by causing a tremendous wave to capsize the little boat, sending both into the sea.

By the time they got to the shore, the full nature of their good fortune had dawned on them and they were both cackling gleefully.

"It's ours for the takin'." Rejoiced Pintel

"Tide's comin' in, that should help." Said Ragetti, just as excited. Pintel beamed him a look. After all, he had been the one who was worried about her immortal soul. "Well, salvagin' is savin', in a manner of speakin'."

Pintel's ugly face broke into a big grin. He was glad to see that there was still some pirate in his friend. "There's the truth of it."

Laughing, they headed up to the ropes that were anchoring the _Pearl_ to the beach. Suddenly, their jollity was cut short when they heard the deep drums echoing from the forest-covered mountains deeper in the island. Their smiles faded, replaced by fear and a certain minding of their souls which was none too pleasant.

"I suppose we'd better save it as soon as we can, what with our souls bein' in such a vulnerable state an' all." remained Ragetti.

"Amen to that." Ragetti fervently replied, crossing himself twice.

With that, Ragetti scrambled up the ropes to board the _Pearl_and Pintel ran to loose the ropes on the ground. It's surprising how much one can get done when puts one mind's to it, especially when danger happens to be part of the motivation.

* * *

I know, the chapter was a bit short, but I really couldn't put this whole section into one chapter, it would have been way to long. But don't worry, the next chapter will be longer and should be up in the next few days. Until then, read and review.

Next chapter: A bizarre escape from a biarre island.


	12. Chapter 12: Escape

Chapter 12: Escape

Marie had made up her mind that she was going to severely hurt Will once they were out of this mess. She had never been more humiliated in her entire life.

Will's "brilliant" plan idea had sounded simple enough, at least in theory: swing the cages back and forth until they got close enough to the face of the cliff to grab the thick vines that trailed down from above. It would then be a simple matter of using the vines to climb up the cliff and onto the good, stable earth. From there, they could figure out a way to break out of the cages and get back to the _Pearl_.

Simple in theory, nearly impossible in practice. Will had underestimated the distance from cage to ravine edge and it was taking more than just a few swings to reach the side of the cliff. Indeed, in Marie's mind, they seemed to have been repeating the same action over and over for hours. Oh, they had come close enough several times to their ultimate goal (at one point, they even came away with handful of dirt and broken-off vines., which had raised a general scream of frustration from everyone involved). Each time, they swung back and will exhorted them to try once more.

There was only one reason why Marie had gone along with this folly for so long: she had no better idea.

At long last, after what seemed like they had swung back and forth some 283 times by Marie's very rough count, the occupants of the cages finally managed to snag the think vines that hung down the cliffs.

"Put your legs, through. Start to climb!" shouted Gibbs.

The two cages began a long, slow climb up the face of the cliff, Marie putting in as much effort as the other men.

"Come on, men." Said Will, as they climbed. "It'll take all of us to crew the _Black Pearl_."

"Actually," came Leech's voice from the opposite cage, "you wouldn't need everybody. About six would do."

Marie shot Leech a murderous glare. She had her suspicions about Leech's trustworthiness from the first. He had all the markings of an opportunist, who would betray anyone if it was favorable for him. The only reason he hadn't already tried was that he lacked the intelligence and persuasive tongue of someone like Barbossa to make these opportunities for himself. Now, with the ones who would oppose him in another cage, the opportune moment just might be with him. She made another mental note that once she had got done severely hurting Will, she would do worse to Leech.

But at that moment, something happened that made Marie forget about any plans of violence on siblings or potential enemies. The drums which had been keeping a steady cadence in the distance for the past half hour had gone suddenly silent, leaving nothing but ominous silence. Marie felt the icy grip of fear begin to work its way around her heart. If the drums had stopped, then that meant… "Jack." She whispered.

And if the feast had begun, then that meant that they were running out of time.

"Oh dear." Murmured Leech, mirroring more or less exactly what everyone was thinking.

"Hurry!" shouted Will.

The prisoners needed no more incentive than that. They weren't going at a leisurely pace anymore: they were now going as fast as their rather restrictive predicament would allow. Marie was not going so fast, though, that she couldn't catch the worried glances that Leech was throwing in the direction of the other cage. Will, Marie and the rest of the crew in their cage had a slight lead over Leech. If they got to the top first, they would destroy his opportunity to play turncoat. As far as Marie was concerned, she didn't at all care what happened to Leech. Her own life, the life of her brother, and some of her closest friends took far more precedence than a wannabe trader.

Suddenly, Will saw that a native guard was crossing the bridge that spanned the canyon. He hadn't noticed that the prisoners were trying to escape. And before he did, Will knew they had to halt the ascent until the coast was clear.

"Stop." Will warned the others, sotto voice.

The two cages stopped as everyone looked to see what was going on. After a few seconds, Leech decided it was time to seize the opportunity that he had been handed. Surreptitiously, he gestured for the group of pirates in his cage to be quiet, before he pointed to the top of the cliff.

Marie was shocked when she saw the cage begin to move up the cliff, as was everyone else. "Stop." Will called to them, but all he received as a response were mocking laughs.

Marie held her vine so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She felt helpless rage flowing through her veins. She hated the feeling of knowing there was nothing she could do to avoid disaster, which was exactly what was happening.

But, just when Leech was sure of success he grabbed hold of what he thought was a vine, but when he saw what it was, it was plain that it was no vine. "Snake." He squealed, in fright as he saw the slithering, hissing reptile in his hand.

That single scream of terror caused a chain reaction in the cage. Hands loosed on the vines, the cage fell away from the cliff and began falling into the canyon.

"Fools!" Marie could feel no sympathy for the occupants of the bone cage as she watched it fall.

The force of the falling cage caused the rope to snap and the cage hurtled down into the canyon. The horrified, terrified screams of the occupants vanished into the abyss, until even those were jarringly cut off.

Will and Marie exchanged glances. The guard had obviously been alerted by the noise, and he would be running to warn the other Pelagostas. Their time, before short, now was virtually nonexistent. And what was more, if what had just happened was any indication, reaching the top was now a matter of life and death.

"Move!" they both shouted at the same time.

How long it took for them to reach the top, Marie would never be able to figure out. It seemed like endless hours, but finally with one last heave, they managed to haul themselves up and over the side of the cliffs. They had accomplished the first phase; now all they had to do was cut themselves loose.

"Cut it loose. Find a rock." Ordered Will, and the prisoners scrambled to obey his commands. However, they only managed to break through a few of the cage bars before blood-curdling screams met their ears and they saw the cannibals crashing through the brush, coming closer towards them. Faced with these circumstances, Will shouted the first thing that came to his mind. "Roll the cage!"

Since no one else had any better idea, they began running, rolling the cage along the ground as fast as they could. It wasn't nearly fast enough, though. If they didn't pick up speed and soon, then the cannibals would be able to catch them in no time at all.

And no sooner had that thought flashed through her mind, when the ground gave way underneath her and the cage began rolling of its own accord. They had been so busy looking behind them, that they hadn't seen the hill that sloping downward in front of them. Not that they would have been able to change their course in any case.

The cage rolled faster and faster, the occupants, Marie included, screaming their heads off. This was definitely worse then any storm she had experienced at sea. She felt like her insides were twisting themselves into knots.

There is no telling how far the cage would have roiled. It may well have gone on to the ends of the earth, had it not been for the tree that was directly in its path. Nothing could have prepared Marie for the teeth-rattling impact of cage on tree. And as if being struck in a human bone cage that seemed to be in a permanent roll wasn't bad enough, instead of bursting apart when the cage came into contact with the tree, which would have been the ideal scenario and the one Marie would have preferred, the tree just happened to be angled in such a way as it make it possible for a round object, such as a bone cage, to roll up the trunk and then drop back to the earth still intact.

Unfortunately, Marie had no time to be dazed from the bone-jarring jolt. They had only still a slim lead on the cannibal brotherhood. "Lift the cage! Hurry!" That was Will, coming up with yet another of his bright ideas, which frankly, Marie was getting tired of. Part of it was that they were becoming a great source of discomfort and partly because they seemed to be the only ideas that anyone was coming up with.

"Come on, lads," shouted out Gibbs, "Lift it like a lady's skirt."

Had Marie been in a position to object, she would have had a few choice words for Gibbs, and his idea of encouraging the men. However, as it was, she didn't notice.

The prisoners raced through the verdant forest, hotly pursued by the screaming cannibals. Even as they seemed to be gaining ground in their escape, bad luck, which seemed to have been following this whole escapade from the start, dealt them another blow.

Marie, running with all the speed she could muster in her restrained circumstances, didn't realize at first that she wasn't running on land anymore. The cage had more or less gone straight over a cliff and was now airborne and falling, fast.

At least, this cliff formed part of a deep, narrow canyon through the bottom of which flowed an ice-cold stream. The cage shattered in-between the jagged rocks of the canyon and landed in the water.

The cold water came as a shock to Marie's system. And it was only through sheer force of will that she managed to propel herself up through the maze of broken pieces of the cage to the surface.

She, Will and the others managed to break the surface, gasping for air. They may have found a refuge, but it wasn't a hiding place by any means. Within a few seconds, the rim of the canyon was crowded with natives, brandishing spears and bows and arrows. In an instant, the air was filled with sharp, flying weapons, seeking to impale the would-be escapists.

Marie dove beneath the water, making it more difficult for the Pelagostas to get a fix on them. She forced her eyes open, trying to avoid the arrows that were plummeting into the water. She saw Will heading for what looked like an outcropping of rock that might serve as a temporary shelter. The rest of the escaped prisoners followed him. Treading water, Marie looked above her, anxiously. Up above them, the cannibals were getting ready to finish them off. There was no escape; they were trapped.

Then suddenly, the cannibals froze. They stared across the canyon, as if listening to something intently, then they turned without any sort of reason that Marie saw and scuttled back into the forest at a high rate of speed.

They all looked at each other in puzzlement. They had no idea what had drawn the Pelagostas away from their dinner, but nobody really was in the mood to be asking questions like that.

The escaped prisoners managed to make their way through the labyrinthine canyon. When they came within sight of the beach, Gibbs, as well as most of the group gave out a whoop what they saw the ocean.

"The _Black Pearl_'s just a short way up the beach." Said Gibbs, "We'll be out of this mess in no time."

Marie apparently didn't hear this, as she was already disappearing into the forest. "Marie," asked Will, "where are you going?"

"I'm going to find Jack." She shouted back.

"You're going to do what?" shouted Will in utter astonishment. But Marie was gone. Will started to go after her, but Gibbs put a restraining hand on his shoulder. "Don't go after her, Will. She's a strong lass. She can take care of herself. Come on!"

Will, casting a reluctant glance behind him, followed Gibbs and the rest, as they raced down the beach, towards their final escape.

* * *

Marie found herself running through the forest, with really no clear direction or plan in mind. She wouldn't have been able to get back to the cannibal village this route had she wanted too. However, she still thought that Jack was alive. After all, they had come rushing after them. The only thing that would have made them abandon such an exalted feast was if the main course had actually ordered them too. Being a god, Jack must have still had some authority, even over the fire pit. And if the cannibals were gong after the prisoners gave Jack even the slightest opportunity, she knew that he would do everything in his power to twist it to his advantage. And just in case he managed to escape, he would be heading for the shore. She had no way of knowing if this was the direction he might choose, but it would be as good a direction as any. She couldn't risk leaving Jack behind; she might have been miffed with him, but not yet enough to wish him an untimely demise if she could prevent it.

She ran through the forest, calling our Jack's name as went, hoping despite all odds, that he might hear her. "Jack! Jack!"

Or course, she received no answer. But she kept running and shouting, hoping that she would run into him.

When she finally did find him, however, it was in the bizarrest manner possible. She was running between the valley of a canyon, continually shouting Jack's name, when she began to hear the sound of a faint scream growing rapidly louder, and it sounded quite a bit like Jack, and, unless her ears were deceiving her…

She looked up, completely shocked to see Jack above her, falling toward her at a high rate of speed. A large pole was falling with him and unless she was badly mistaken, so were several pieces of fruit. Marie blinked her eyes, wondering if she had seen that right. She knew that normal was hardly a word that applied to Jack, but even she had never imagined anything like this.

He continued falling, falling until the ground stopped his downward journey. He landed with a thud. The pole thunked into the ground beside him, missing his head by mere inches; a moment of stillness followed, then several pieces of fruit rained down on the prostrate pirate captain, their contents splattering all over.

Marie watched this whole thing with her mouth open. She could hardly believe what she had seen. Nonetheless, a year in Jack's company had helped her to recover from such unexpected sights.

And recover quickly she did. She ran over him. "Jack! Jack!" she cried, as she went down on her knees beside him. "Jack, are you all right?"

Jack was staring straight up, still obviously dazed. Marie wasn't even sure if he had heard at first, until he croaked feebly, "Am I dead?"

Marie sighed and shook her head. "No, Jack, you're not dead." She shouldn't have been so worried. If Jack had survived that fall he would be able to survive anything.

She helped him to sit up and then looked around at the splattered fruit, the pole and the rope that was tied to Jack's ankle. She turned a look on Jack, who tried to avoid her gaze. "Do I want to ask?"

"I would really rather prefer that you didn't."

"Well, I guess that you got what you deserved."

Now it was Jack's turn to look at her. "Now I do have to ask what that means."

"Oh, come on, Jack. You can't act all coy now, not when all the evidence is against you. You put yourself in this situation, as well as the rest of us."

"Oh, this whole thing is my fault?" he asked, as Marie set to work trying to break the rope that was around his ankle.

"Not to put to fine a point on it, Jack, yes it is. You were the one who set a course to this island; you were the one who promised us a grand welcome. You failed to mention the accommodations that would be provided for us, not to mention dinner plans."

Marie finally managed to break the rope, stood up, and immediately walked away, seeming not to care if Jack followed or not. Jack, fully recovered from his fall, wasn't about to lose an argument like this. "Marie," he started as he went after her, "do you honestly think that I planned it this way?"

Marie stopped and turned to face him, her blue-green eyes snapping with tongues of fire. "If I had thought that, then I would have mutinied. What I'm saying is that you should have exhibited a little foresight."

Jack didn't know why Marie was so angry with him. Well, there was the obvious fact that he had gotten her captured by cannibals who would have eaten her, but that was beside the point. The point that that something else was bothering her, something that she wasn't willing to share with him. "Marie, what is this all about?"

"I just told you, Jack." Said Marie, coldly, "As usual, you're less than well-thought out plans have gotten us into trouble."

"No, what is this really about? And allow me to point out that you seem to have escaped quite well."

"That doesn't ignore the fact that-" Marie was suddenly cut off by the distant sound of the cannibals. They were close and coming closer. "Not again." She muttered.

"I say that we continue this little discussion at a later date." Said Jack.

"Agreed." Said Marie, who knew that there were more important things than her anger her anger with Jack at this particular moment, such as survival. "In the meantime, I suggest we run for our lives."

"My thoughts exactly, darlin'." Replied Jack.

With that, they turned and fled. At that very moment, the horde of green-painted cannibals burst from the undergrowth of the forest. They were even angrier than before, and their blood-curdling screams now carried an even sharper edge. It was quite obvious that they were not going to let their prey escape a second time.

* * *

Will, Gibbs and the rest of those who were still alive dashed up the beach, closing the distance between them and the _Black Pearl_. They had expected that they would have to take the time to get her from the beach into the water. It was no small relief (and surprise), that the _Pearl_ was just starting to edge her way out of the sea. True, the tide was coming in, but that wasn't the main reason why this had occurred.

Pintel was struggling to keep his balance in the pounding surf. He hadn't noticed that company was approaching. He was to busy hurling abuse at his would-be partner in crime. "Haul loose the mooring line!" he shouted up to Ragetti, who had as yet done nothing to even acknowledge that he had heard him. "The mooring line!"

Up on deck, Ragetti was experiencing a rather unpleasant reunion with one who had been the most troublesome member of the _Pearl_'s former crew. His wooden eye had popped out for the umpteenth time and Jack the Monkey had snatched it before he could hands on it. This had led to a chase which the monkey, not surprisingly, was winning.

"Thief!" Ragetti admonished the monkey, "Li'le, hairy thief give it back."

As if in response, the monkey clambered on top of one of the cannons and began biting on the hard wood with its spiky little teeth. Ragetti's behavior instantly moved from anger to pleading desperation. "Don't bite it."

"The mooring line." He at last heard the annoyed call of his companion. "He's got me eye." He shouted down to Pintel. "He won't give it back."

This explanation did nothing to improve Pintel's state of mind. "Well, 'ow'd you get it back last time."

"Excellent." Cried Gibbs, who suddenly came up behind him, "Our work's half done."

"We done it for you." Squeaked Pintel, caught completely off-guard. "Knowin' you'd be comin' back."

If Gibbs was aware of the ball-faced lie that Pintel had just told him, he didn't give any indication of it. There was a place to consider such things as honesty, but now was the hardly the time for such frivolities. "Make ready to sail, boys."

"What about Marie and Jack?" asked Will, "I won't leave without them!"

Gibbs looked at Will in exasperation, and was about to speak, when they suddenly heard the distinctive sound of Jack's shout. Turning as one, the group looked up the beach. Marie and Jack appeared from behind a high, cliff running for the ship.

Will took a few steps in their direction, a relieved smile beginning to form on his face. However, that relief instantly vanished when, right behind Jack and Marie, appeared the yelling horde of the cannibals.

"Never mind!" shouted Will, forgetting noble aspirations for the moment, "Let's go!" (AN I had to use this version of the line. It's so much better than the one they put in the movie.)

He would be receiving no argument from the crew. "Make ready to cast off." Came Gibbs' panicked squeal, as he, Will and the crew began making for the _Pearl._

Marie and Jack, both screaming like a couple of mad banshees, were making a dash up the beach, the cannibals hard on their heels. If they didn't mange to reach the _Pearl_, there wouldn't be anywhere left for them to run. Now, it was a race against the cannibals and the swiftly rising tide, which was carrying the _Pearl_ out to sea and beyond their reach.

They ran past a big grey dog who was barking at the strange creatures. "Good doggie." Said Jack, in passing. Taking a quick glance behind him, he received extra incentive to speed his pace. The cannibals were gaining.

At last, just as the cannibals were about to bear down on them, Marie and Jack reached the deeper shallows, splashing beyond the reach of the Pelagostas.

Standing in the shallows, blood-curdling screams gave to heartbroken cries, as the Pelagostas began wailing for their god to return. Of course, Jack had no such intentions, and neither did Marie. They had already begun to climb up the sides of the _Pearl_.

Jack, upon hearing the abrupt shift in his former worshippers cries, and feeling much more confident now that he was in his own element, struck an impressive pose and called gaily back to the Pelagostas, "Alas, my children, this is the day that you will always remember as the day you almost…" a large wave suddenly splashed all over him, effectively ruining his bravado. Jack's face and tone became a good deal less enthusiastic as he finished, in a decidedly sour manner. "Cap'n Jack Sparrow."

Marie, who was already more than halfway up the side of the _Black Pearl_ looked down at Jack and said, in an all too annoyed voice, "Jack, stop trying to make an impressive exit and let's get out of here."

Jack muttered something about, "She always has to be right," before he all too willingly followed Marie's advice.

They left the Pelagostas momentarily lost and forlorn as they watched the great black ship which had brought their god (not to mention the main course), back to them, now sail even further out of their reach. However, their profound grief was no destined to last long, for only a few seconds after their god boarded the ship, the sound of barking reached their ears. They all turned as one to see the furry, grey, four-legged beast that their god had left behind. Whether or not the dog may have been aware of the exact intent is hard to decide. But he could tell that these people were nothing but trouble. Giving a frightened yelp he turned tail and streaked up the beach. The Pelagostas gave a loud hoot in response and began dashing after their newest god.

* * *

I won't bother adding a postscript about what happens to the dog, because we all know what happens to him (sea turtles, after all). As always, be sure to review and tell me what you thought.

I hope that everyone's summer is going great. Fortunately, with summer now in the works, updates might be a bit more regular than they have been. We still have got a lot of story to cover, and as it turns out, the adventures are only just beginning. Be sure and look for more updates soon.

Next chapter: Jack starts to make a deal with Will regarding Elizabeth's safety, however, Marie suspects that there might be more to Jack's plan than appears at first. And she begins to find herself divided between her husband and her brother.


	13. Chapter 13:Questionable Motives

Hey there, everyone. Since this chapter is kind of short, I decided that I was going to post two chapters instead of the usual one. So, enjoy!

Chapter 13: Questionable Motives

Clambering aboard the _Black Pearl_, Marie heaved a sigh of relief, safe at last. Well, for the moment, at least. Being married to Jack meant that she was never in a very safe situation for very long.

Gibbs was the first to meet them. "Let's put some distance between us and this island and head out to open sea."

Jack took very little time in composing his answer. "Yes, to the first, yes to the second, but only insofar as we keep to the shallows as much as possible." While he had been speaking, Pintel and Ragetti suddenly appeared out of nowhere and draped Jack's coat over his shoulders, before saluting their new captain. Jack gave each of them a cursory glance, but other than that, didn't seem too surprised to see them.

"That seems a bit contradictory, Cap'n." remarked Gibbs.

"I have every faith in your reconciliatory navigation skills, Master Gibbs, now where is that monkey? I want to shoot something."

Suddenly, something dropped down from the heavens and landed in front of them. It was Ragetti's wooden eye. As he bent down gleefully to retrieve it, Jack drew his pistol. Glancing up at the monkey, who was climbing in and around the rigging of the ship like a little, hairy spider.

By this time, Marie had recovered from her little run up the beach (which had been really no small matter), and was now able to see just who the two standing beside Jack were. "You. What are you doing here?"

Pintel looked at Ragetti and Ragetti looked at Pintel, before both of them looked at her. "Salvagin'?" tried Pintel, with a weak smile.

"Ya never know when you might need to salvage somethin' to save it." Added Ragetti, "Especially what with all the scoundrels and thieves what are around nowadays."

Marie just stared at the two of them with raised eyebrows. She then glanced at Jack, but he didn't seem to have heard them, so intent he was on getting a clear shot at the monkey.

Will ruined what chance he had of that when he walked up to Jack, effectively shattering his opportune moment. "Jack, Elizabeth is in danger." Now that he was able to concentrate, the mission of Elizabeth's safety had once more become his main purpose.

Jack, however, didn't seem to catch the note of urgency in Will's voice. Either that or he just ignored it. "Have you considered keeping her a more watchful eye on her, just lock her up somewhere?" he climbed to the stern of the ship, keeping the monkey in sigh. Will followed him.

Marie, seeing that she would have to go to make sure that Will didn't severely hurt Jack; she also figured that she was the only one who could make Jack actually listen to Will. "I'll deal with you later." She whispered to Pintel and Ragetti, who looked suddenly very worried.

Will continued. "She is lock up, in a prison, bound to hang for helping you."

Jack still didn't seem to be listening. And even if he was, he didn't seem to care. "There comes a time when one must take responsibility for one's mistakes."

Will had heard enough, since Jack wasn't responding to conventional means; he would have to try something a bit more forceful. Quick as lightening, he drew the sword that was on the belt of another pirate who was standing close beside him, and instantly had it at Jack's neck. "I need that compass of yours, Jack." He said, coldly, "I must trade it for her freedom."

Will had drawn and pointed sword so quickly that the blade was still ringing from the movement. In the silence that followed Will's menacing statement, Jack looked as if he didn't know what had just happened, or so it appeared. In reality, an inkling of a plan was forming in the back of his mind in the face of Will's obvious resolve. Perhaps, he could use that to his own advantage.

Marie, who had arrived on the scene, was herself quite surprised. This was a side of Will she had never seen before. She could plainly recognized the expression on Will's face; he was clearly determined to do whatever it took to accomplish his goal, and nothing was going to stand in his way.

Will, as if sensing what his sister was thinking, cast her a sideways glance. She responded with a raised eyebrow. "This is new."

Jack was still in deep thought. Taking hold of the sword with his thumb and forefinger, he switched the sword to the other side of the neck, so that he could smoothly slip away. Instead of then answering Will's ultimatum directly, he moved towards Gibbs who had taken over command of the wheel. "Mr. Gibbs."

"Cap'n." responded Gibbs, smartly.

"We have a need to travel upriver."

A shadow of fear crossed Gibbs' face. "By need do ya mean a trifling need, fleeting, as in say a passing fancy?"

Jack's answer effectively shattered any hope that Gibbs had. "No, a resolute and unyielding need."

Marie narrowed her eyes and she looked at Jack a little closer at Jack. A year of living within had alerted her to his moods. The mask of drunken stupidity that he almost always wore hid a keen and calculating mind. Normally, her own mind worked in conjunction with Jack's mind, her own schemes and ideas often upgrading any that Jack came up with. Unfortunately, that also meant that she could sense when he was on the verge of treachery. Why was she beginning to get the feeling that he was thinking of a scheme that could quite possibly be against her own brother?

Will was apparently unaware of Jack's inner planning or of Marie's sudden suspicion. He was focused on one thing and one thing only. "What we have to do, is set sail for Port Royal with all haste."

Jack, his face still thoughtful, paused before answering the question. "William, I will trade you the compass, if you will help me to find this." Reaching into his coat, he withdrew the cloth picture of the key that he had taken from the Turkish prison. Marie had quite forgotten about it in the light of recent events, but now, Jack surely wasn't thinking…? Surely, he wouldn't…?

Will stared at the picture for a moment, before pointing at it in slight confusion and annoyance as to why Jack had brought in what seemed to him a totally unrelated item. "You want me to find this?"

"No." said Jack, "You want you to find this, because the finding of this finds you incopasatorially finding and/or locating in your discovery the detecting of a way to save your dolly belle, ol' what's her face. Savvy?"

The blank look on Will's face indicated that no, he not savvy. Nonetheless, if this would be at all any help to him to save Elizabeth, he had to pursue it. He had to admit, however, that he was still more than a little skeptical. He had a few thoughts that Jack might have some slippery reasons of his own for wanting to help him.

"This is going to save Elizabeth?" he said, trying to keep the incredulous tone out of his voice.

"Jack, don't-" said Marie, in warning.

But, Jack chose not to listen. Far be it from him to turn down an opportunity. Taking a step toward Will, he asked him in a low voice, "How much do you know about Davy Jones?"

Will's eyebrows knitted together in confusion at the unexpected question. "Not much?"

Jack's manner suddenly seemed to revert back to normal. "Yeah, it's gonna save Elizabeth."

There apparently ended the conversation. Jack didn't seem to be in the mood to want to reveal anymore. However, when Will looked at Marie, he could see that something was bothering her. It was than that he knew there were probably going to be more strings attached to this deal than there at first seemed. Jack wouldn't be telling him, but he believed that Marie would, if her facial expressions were anything to go by. He would have to see if he could manage to get her alone so they could talk. He didn't think that would be difficult. After all, there was more than one plausible reason for that. They hadn't seen each other for nearly a year; reminiscing would probably be the best excuse for a little clarification.


	14. Chapter 14: A Matter of Trust

Okay, since I didn't have a little tag for this chapter, I am going to have one now. In this chapter, we get to find out just what James' connection is to Beckett, and how he knew him in the past. Also, in my attempt to make Beckett even more despicable and create some more AU bits, we are going to find out abit more about him and his background. So, there might be a lot of talking, but it's pretty important. I hope that everyone likes it.

Chapter 14: A Matter of Trust

Port Royal was reeling. Lord Beckett had struck and struck hard. Every merchant vessel that was in Port Royal or arrived at docks was instantly subjected to a rigorous search by the officers of the East India Trading Company. Strict penalties were being dealt out to any who were found or even suspected of smuggling. Fines and arrests were being handed out to those who broke the law, and even for those who were found to be innocent, fines in the form of taxation were being administered, to make sure that they would not follow in the footsteps of their unfortunate comrades.

There was no one so high in society that seemed safe from Beckett's machinations. James and Emma felt the effects of this as surely as anyone in Port Royal. Even if they didn't seem to be affected directly because of their status, there could be no denying that a shift was occulting in their lives, a shift that neither of them could prevent.

James was beginning to find that his influence in the Caribbean was more or less being usurped by Beckett. The orders that Beckett had from the Crown itself had given him authority to use any personnel or means that he deemed necessary to restore order in the Caribbean, and unfortunately, that included the resources of the Royal Navy. Just what Beckett intended to do with that resource, James did not know, but he knew that it couldn't be good. All the ships that were in the fleet had been impounded till further notice, meaning that his own livelihood would be indirectly effected.

And then, as if all this were not bad enough, there was also Emma. The changes that had occurred in her behavior were subtle, but disturbing to him nonetheless. She was worried about Elizabeth and the chances that William Turner would have of achieving the mission that Beckett had charged him with. And there was the constant strain that came from having Beckett within only a few miles of her. James was finding that he was awaking in the middle of the night to find an empty place beside him, and Emma standing by the window, her face showing the clear signs of worry. She almost resembled some sort of medieval painting and had it been under any other circumstances, he would have thought that she looked quite beautiful. Now, he would have quite willingly traded that view for one of the smiles that had used to melt his heart.

However much he may have felt trepidation in general for the situation that had unexpectedly torn his world apart, he would finally get more of the whole story when his second-in-command and friend, Andrew Groves paid a visit a week after William had left to try and find Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Andrew," said James, as he was shown into his study. "It's a relief to see you."

"Relief?" asked Andrew, "Most people would say it would be a pleasure."

The dry sense of humor that was a mark of Groves' personality caused a smiled to come to James' face, the first real one to appear there in what seemed a long time. "It's both a pleasure and a relief, considering how many people I would rather not see."

"I can certainly agree with you on that point, James." Said Andrew, reverting to his commander's first name sine they were more or less off-duty until further notice. "I can only hope that you'll still feel that pleasure and relief when I tell you the reason for my visit."

"I suppose you've heard the saying, 'don't kill the messenger'?"

"Fair enough." Replied Andrew. He sobered up and leaned forward, speaking in a softer tone, as if he were afraid of being overheard. "But all joking aside James, I have very serious things to discuss with you."

Alerted by Andrew's abrupt change of tone, James asked him seriously, "Its Beckett, isn't it?"

"Who else would it be, but him?" replied Andrew grimly, "And truth to tell, I would be surprised if I heard about anything less right now."

"What have you heard?"

Instead of answering directly, Andrew got up, avoiding looking at James directly. He went to the window, and stared out at the view for a few seconds, before he finally turned back to him. "First, I'm curious. Have you ever had any interaction with Beckett in the past?"

"What does that have to do with-?"

"Please, just answer the question."

James had no idea why Andrew suddenly had become so secretive, but he knew that while Andrew would joke about some things, when he truly wanted to talk about something serious, it was best to listen to him. "I did serve once with him, about twelve years ago. I was seventeen, and had been a member of the Royal Navy for only about five years. I had risen fast, what with my being the son of a merchant seaman and already having extensive knowledge of the sea. I was a midshipman about the frigate _Dreadnought_. We were escorting a ship full of goods fro England to India. The ship belonged to the East India Company, but it had requested the protection of the Royal Navy, since there had been scattered pirate activity along the route, especially around Madagascar."

"And Beckett was the…"

"Officer in charge of the EITC ship, the officer who was in charge of making sure that the cargo arrived in India safely. Nobody told us that he would also have authority to take command of both ships should the captain of the _Dreadnought_ became incapacitated during the voyage."

"And that happened?"

"Yes, it did, unfortunately. A sneak attack at night by pirates. We didn't go far enough out of their way to be noticed. They were only a small craft; it was easy enough to defeat them. I doubt that the crew of the vessel we were escorting even got their hands dirty. But they were enough to kill our captain."

"And what was Beckett's reaction that?"

"He mouthed words of empty sympathy, then promptly proceeded to take control of the mission."

"Was that against regulation?"

"Well, of course it was against regulation!" said James, who was beginning to be a bit prickled by Andrews' questioning. "It was a joint operation, each party was supposed to remain in command of its own ship. After the captain was killed, the command of the ship was supposed to have fallen to me. It was my first time in command, I was eager to prove, if only to myself, that I was capable of leading men. Beckett hardly even gave me the chance. He never said anything out loud, but he looked down on me. He hated the fact that I was already so well on my way in the world, and a person of my humble beginnings no less. He pushed both crews to the limits of their strength and beyond. He flogged at least three men on each crew for slacking in their duties, but who can be blamed for "slacking" when you can hardly stay awake, because you haven't been allowed more than a few hours' rest. I didn't have any say in the matter. I was just the low-born son of a merchant sailor; what could I possibly know about how to run a ship? By the time we go to India, I was glad to be rid of him."

"So, he's not someone you could consider an ally?"

"Not in the least." Finally growing tired of Andrew's interrogation, he demanded, "Andrew, what are you trying to find out?"

Andrew took a moment to answer. "I'm sorry if I went too far, James, but you have to understand. I couldn't take the risk that you would be sympathetic to Beckett if it came to a choice between your loyalties."

"Andrew," said James, taking a step forward, "I can promise you that my loyalties lie with my king and the Royal Navy. That has been where my loyalties have always been, and that will not change. Moreover, my loyalties lie with…" He paused, unused to divulging such personal sentiments, even to a friend. "With the people I am closest too, particularly my wife. To her especially, I am committed to making sure that she would be safe." He looked closely at Andrew. "Is that good enough for you?"

"Yes, it is. But there is no need to get defensive James. Once I tell you what I have to say, you will understand why I have been so cautious."

"Forgive me, but you still haven't told me anything of value."

"Then listen to me now." Though there was little danger of being overheard, Andrew still cast a glance over his shoulder and lowered his voice still more. "I have friends in both England and the colonies, friends in both high and low places. I make a point of staying in contact with them on a regular basis, especially those who have ties with the Royal Navy and the East India Company. I've been most interested in the latter for the past year."

"I knew that they were petioning to extend the territories they could trade in, but I didn't think that even Beckett could be this powerful, where he actually seems to have the ear of the king."

"It may not extend quite that far, not for him, at least. According to my sources, the East India Company has contacts in all levels of government. Bribery and threats are they tools they have used to gain power. We can be fairly certain that they will employ the same methods here."

"So, the commissions which Beckett has, the right to search every ship that comes into port, the arrest warrants for Elizabeth and William…"

"Most likely came through some other official channel, one closer to the King, but I'm sure that it was a part of some deal."

"And how did he manage to get a commission that would allow him to use the Royal Navy should the need ever arise?"

"The only way he could do that was to convince the Royal Navy wasn't doing its job, and the best way he could get such a report was by a witness account from someone who had supposedly seen it first hand."

James was about to ask what he was talking about. He suddenly remembered the smug look that had adorned the face of his former second-in-command. "Gillette?"

Andrew nodded grimly. "It's the only explanation: he gave the testimony in exchange for a position in the East India Trading Company."

Even though James had known that Gillette was no longer on his side, this bit of information came as a shock to him. "You're saying that Henry Gillette betrayed us?"

"Yes, at least that is the only logical place where Beckett could have gotten the information that he needed to make a persuasive enough case. Gillette would have known what to say, and more importantly, how to twist it enough to make it sound serious."

James could not deny the bitter taste of disappointment he felt when he heard this news. He and Gillette had been friends once. He had trusted him with so much. He had even trusted him with his life. He had not wanted to think that Gillette's treachery would have run so deep. "How could he this?" He asked, more to himself than to Andrew, "How could he betray us?"

"I wish that I could say," Said Andrew, "but what we know of Beckett's character, it's not entirely out of the realm of possibility. Beckett is the presiding officer of the EITC, but he didn't get that promotion on his own merit. There is even a rumor that he brought charges of misconduct against the former lord of the Company, and after he was found guilty and removed from his post, Beckett had him murdered." James stared at Andrew, appalled. "By the time anyone thought to consider accusing him, he was far too powerful to say anything against." Andrew shook his head. "As I said, it could just be a rumor. But…"

"But you don't believe so?" said James. Andrew didn't need to answer. His thoughts on the subject were obvious. "Neither can I." A sudden thought occurred to him. "Why did you not tell me all this before?"

"I had no idea that Beckett would be coming here; nor did my contacts, he moved to fast. I only found out all this today." He paused for a moment before admitting, "And there was a question of trust behind it, as well."

"Trust?"

"With all due respect, sir, I wasn't entirely sure if I could trust you with this. You have been in many places, served under any number of commanders I didn't think I could take the risk that you might be on his side. Beckett, besides his talent at corruption and villainy, has also the gifts of charm and a velvet tongue. He had managed to get out of every single sticky situation that he had ever found himself in, while placing any blame that he may deserve squarely on others."

James seemed to consider what Andrew said, before he smiled ironically and he began to speak softly:

"I do the wrong, and first begin the brawl.

The secret mischief's that I set abroach

I lay unto the grievous charge of others.

And thus I cloth my naked villainy

And seem a saint when most I play the devil."

Andrew looked at his commander in confusion. "Sir?"

"Shakespeare, Andrew: Richard III. I have to wonder if Beckett learned half his tricks from him. And now this devil had come to our shores. Do you have any thoughts?"

"I've already written to my contacts in England and sent them with someone I can trust."

"A response from England could take weeks, months. I wouldn't feel right doing nothing while Beckett encloses his poisonous snare around Port Royal."

"You may not have to worry about that, sir. You might be surprised how quickly news can travel, when the payment is right."

James, despite the grimness of the situation, found himself smiling. "Tell me, Andrew; just how high and low are these contacts of yours?"

"Let's just say that it is good to cover all aspects of society." Andrew became serious and said, "James, I apologize if I offended you in any way, by not trusting you with this sooner."

James put a hand on the shoulder of his young second-in-command. "You did what you felt was right. I won't blame you for that. But I do want to know from you, Andrew, if I can trust you in the events to come. I'm going to need every person I can count on. I need to know, as you did from me, that you won't be slacking the moment the wind is seeming to change."

"Sir, I can promise you that you can count on me. My duty lies with the Royal Navy and with you. I can assure you that no matter what comes, you can count on me."

James nodded, that was good enough for him. "Continue your investigation. You have my permission to use whatever means necessary. And keep me informed of whatever you learn. I'll do the same for you."

Andrew nodded. "For now, I think that is all any of us can do."

James closed his eyes, trying to find some way to organize his thoughts. It seemed that everything was spiraling out of control, and nothing he could do would be able to stop it. "True enough. Watch your back, Andrew. Until we can determine exactly what it is that Beckett wants, none of us will be safe."

* * *

Read and review, as always.

And yes, I know in the movie, as well as in most fics, Groves is the one who is helping Beckett out, but from what I remember of the first movie, it was Gillette who was rather questionable. I mean, Gillette is the one who lets Jack take over the Dauntless, while it is Groves who acknowledges that Jack Sparrow "is the best pirate he had ever seen." I wanted to do it this way, and Andrew will play a pretty significant part in this story and in AWE. Just thought that I would clear that up.

Next chapter: James receives a plea from the Governor regarding Elizabeth, setting James on a couse which will change his entire life, forever. Major AU changes are coming up, so get ready for a few surprises.


	15. Chapter 15: The Plea

Chapter 15: The Plea

Later that night, James Norrington would receive another visitor. Governor Swann arrived unexpectedly that evening. He looked the worst for wear. He had no new news to impart, there didn't seem to be anything he could do for Elizabeth. He looked like he had aged twenty years in just one week. He seemed preoccupied, on edge. He didn't settle down until he asked Emma to leave him alone with James. That in and of itself was unusual, for it was something that Weatherby Swann rarely ever did with Emma. And it was clear, that though she acquiesced, it was with no small amount of reluctance.

Once they were alone, however, Weatherby wasted no time in revealing to James the true reason behind his visit. Needless to say, he was surprised.

"You want me to help break Elizabeth out of prison?"

Weatherby nodded. "Yes, that's more or less what I was trying to ask."

James gaped at his father-in-law, too shocked to speak for a moment. "Have you gone mad?"

"James," said Weatherby, looking around anxiously, "not so loud, please. I don't want Emma to hear this?"

"Governor," said James, speaking lower, but only through great difficulty. "Are you sure about this? Have you considered all other options?"

"I have. I wouldn't even be considering this if I hadn't. Conventional methods are getting me nowhere. It's as though Beckett suddenly has control over everything."

"But the deal he struck with William…"

"Won't do either him or Elizabeth any good. Even if Will can manage to find Sparrow and miraculously convince him to help, the only person that Beckett has any interest in saving is Sparrow."

"Murdering innocent people would not be out of the realm of possibility for Beckett." Mused James, "Which is exactly why you shouldn't even be considering this. It could put both of you in even worse danger."

Weatherby shook his head. "I have done everything else that I can. This is the only way. But I can't do this alone, James. I need your help. I know that I am asking you to make a sacrifice. But you don't even need to make yourself known, no one need ever know. I don't need your help getting into the fort, I have already arranged everything. All I am asking is that you make sure that Elizabeth gets safe onboard the ship which will take her to England. I ask no more than that."

James was unsure. A rescue from a heavily guarded fortress with a condemned prisoner might not be as easy as Weatherby might like to believe. On the other hand, James could clearly see that Weatherby was desperate. He would go through with this plan whether or not he agreed to it. And, somehow, James knew that if Weatherby didn't have some sort of backup, things could go even worse. Finally, he nodded, though he still had some doubts as to the wisdom of Weatherby's plans.

Weatherby was clearly relieved. "Thank you, James. You have my undying gratitude. We should be there in no more than an hour. Remember, all you have to do is follow us down to the docks, to make sure that we aren't followed. I only ask one more thing."

"What is that?"

"I know that this will be difficult for you, but you cannot tell Emma anything about this." James started to object, but Weatherby cut him off. "No, James, listen to me. Emma must know nothing about this. It would only put her in danger. That is something I cannot risk, epically from Beckett." He looked closely at James, "She must have told you, about what happened when she was only fifteen." Reluctantly, James nodded. He tried not to wince at the memory of what Emma had told him, and to quell the rage which welled within him at the mere mention of it. "When that happened, I swore that I would do anything to protect her from Beckett. I still hold to that promise. Even now I must protect her from falling into Beckett's clutches. You have to understand, his feelings for her are still there, I am sure of it. That might protect her for a time, but it will ultimately put her in the greatest danger. You understand? You won't tell her."

James gave his consent to this last request with an even greater deal of reluctance than he had acquiesced to the first one. He did not like keeping secrets from Emma, in fact, he was not sure if he had ever kept a single secret from her in the entire course of their relationship. However, he could also see the wisdom of Weatherby's stance. If Emma could be in even the slightest danger because of this, than he would have to do everything to protect her. "No, I will not tell her."

"Thank you, James. Don't worry, this will be over soon." Weatherby got to his feet and went to the door.

James was left on his own to think of what he had just promised. To be truthful, he wasn't entirely sure that he had done the right thing. But, he had not time to consider it in solitude, for he suddenly heard Emma's voice in the corridor beyond the study. He couldn't make out exactly what she was saying, but she seemed to be calling to her father before he went out the door. It seemed like a short farewell, and probably by Emma's perspective, rather abrupt.

When she into the room, her face looked confused and she was glancing behind her as if she didn't entirely understand what had just happened.

"James," she asked, "is everything all right?"

The question came as something of a shock to James and for a moment, he didn't even know how to respond. "Yes, of course, Emma. Why do you ask?"

Emma regarded James for a second before saying, "Ordinarily, you might be good at lying, but right now, you're failing miserably."

"Emma, I assure you that-" he stopped mid-sentence, and realized that what he was attempting to do was a fool's errand. He could see it in Emma's eyes that she did not believe him. He couldn't leave her like this. But, he found that he couldn't find the words to tell her.

"James," said Emma, as she sat down beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "What is going on? Ever since you had that conversation with Groves today, you've been so withdrawn. You hardly said anything at supper, and now, father… I honestly don't understand what has happened to you. Can you not tell me what's troubling you?"

"I don't know if I can, Emma." Said James, frankly after a pause. "I'm not sure if I know what to make of half of the things I heard today, so I don't really know if any explanation I can give would make sense."

Emma gave James her piercing stare, the kind of stare that looked beyond the face of a person and clear into his soul, seeming to read all of his secrets. "James, I can accept the fact that sometimes you have secrets that you must keep from me, but there are times when such secrets can become a burden. Now, I sense that whatever secrets you're keeping, hiding them is not helping you. Please, tell me what's going on. You might be surprised at how much it helps you."

James found himself torn. He did want to tell Emma, but the warning that Governor Swann had told him (that Emma may have been safe, but she was also in the greatest danger) rang in his mind. What could he tell her that would satisfy her and yet would keep her in the safest place between the two extremes?

Finally, and only choosing his words carefully, he said, "There isn't much I can tell you. Andrew told me some very troubling things today about Beckett and his past activities. He's even more corrupt than I thought. Andrew has told me of bribery, threats, even murder." Emma's face grew horrified when she heard this, but she remained silent. No doubt, she had believed Beckett capable of such acts, but she hadn't wanted to think that it was possible he had actually done them. "We have even more reason to suspect that he's up to no good. I don't know how far he'll try to go here."

"Do you have any sort of plan?"

"While Beckett has the upper hand, and he does now, than I'm afraid the only thing we can do but gather information. We need to wait for the tide to turn." He paused. "I can't tell you anymore than that."

"And father, what did he want?"

He tried not to wince. He had hoped that she wouldn't go that direction, because he couldn't answer that as easily. The silence went on a bit longer than was comfortable for either of them. They both seemed to sense that there were secrets that needed to be kept, and there are some secrets that are better left untold.

Finally, James, unable to stand the silence any longer, suddenly got to his feet. "I have to go."

"James, what do you mean?"

'There's something that I have to do?"

"What?"

'I can't tell you."

"James-"

"No, Emma.' Said James. He was desperate for her to understand that this was one secret which could not be revealed. He put one hand on her shoulder, the other cupped her cheek. "Emma, you trust me, don't you?"

"More than anything, but James-"

James put a finger on her lips to stop her. "Than trust me now, dearest, now more than ever, you have got to trust me. I won't tell you anything that could put in danger. Please, trust me, just this once, even if it's the last time you do."

There was something in his voice that made Emma listen to him. She smiled, rather sadly, "Nothing could ever make me stop trusting you."

The relief that James felt when he heard this could not be described. Kissing her on the forehead, he whispered softly, "I'll tell you everything soon, I promise."

He left her and headed for the door. His hand was on the knob, when he stopped. He couldn't leave her, not like this. He turned around. "Emma."

His wife turned to look at him, in her eyes a worried look that went straight to his heart. He crossed the room in just a few seconds and before either of them knew what had happened, he had her in his arms and was kissing her. He had a feeling of sudden dread in the pit of his stomach, the horrible feeling that this would be the last time that he would see her in a very long time. He tried to pour all his heart into that one kiss, all his love, his passion, every single thing that his words would be unable to say. Emma seemed to sense the desire that James was trying to make known to her, and she responded in kind.

When he parted from her, he kept his forehead leaning against hers for a moment longer than was necessary. "Whatever you're going to do, James, be careful."

"I will be." He promised. "I love you, never doubt that."

"I never have and I never will. I love you."

It seemed like one moment he was there and the next he was gone, leaving her along with her worries and thoughts.


	16. Chapter 16: Rescue

Chapter 14: Rescue

Elizabeth Swann sat stoically in her prison cell, doing her best to ignore the catcalls, which were coming from the cell opposite her. No doubt the group of ragged men who occupied the ell had not seen a woman in ages, and they were just as of practice of trying to lure her over.

She had planned on it being another long night, when suddenly a guard appeared at her door. He said nothing to her, but merely unlocked the door and swung it open. The next instant, her father appeared in the doorway.

"Come quickly." He said, urgently.

Elizabeth wasted no time in questions, but got up and exited the cell (much to the disappointment of her neighbors). Her father made no more explanation, but merely started walking quickly down the corridor. Elizabeth could do nothing more than follow him.

It soon became clear to her that they were taking the long way around to exit Fort Charles. He still hadn't told her anything about what was going on. Granted, she was glad to be free of her cell, but what concerned her more was what her father was planning to do with her now that she was free.

"You've got to tell me what's happening?" she demanded, as he continued to hurry her down the corridor.

"Our name still has some standing with the king. I have arranged passage to England. The captain is a friend of mine."

Elizabeth immediately stopped. Leaving here meant that Will would come home to no one. His mission would be meaningless. She would almost prefer to go back to her cell if that was the price she would have to pay for her freedom. "No! Will has gone to find Jack."

Swann had known that Elizabeth would probably have some sort of objection. But this was one time he could and would not back down. "We cannot count on William Turner." He stated firmly, as he took her by the arm and began to almost physically pull her the rest of the way. "Come!"

"He's a better man than you give him credit for." Elizabeth hissed, hotly.

"Oh, please, now is not time for innocence. Beckett had offered one pardon, only, one! And that id promised to Jack Sparrow."

He delivered this not so subtle warning just as they were exiting Fort Charles. A carriage was there with no footman in sight. Her father must have driven it here on his own. He stopped just before they got to the carriage, and looked at her for a moment, desperately pleading with her. "Even if Will succeeds… do not ask me to endure the sight of my daughter walking to the gallows. Do not!" turning her back towards the carriage, he helped her inside. "Perhaps, I can arrange a fair trial for Will if her returns."

The eyes of father and daughter met for an instant. They both knew there was no truth in what he had just said. "A fair trail for Will end in a hanging." Said Elizabeth.

Swann looked regretful, but he didn't back down. "Than there is nothing left for you here."

Before Elizabeth could object further, Swann slammed the door. Whether she liked it or not, Elizabeth was going to be rescued, even if it was all that he now could do.

* * *

The streets around the docks were almost completely deserted. Fog rolled off the water, coating the ground in a low blanket of white. It was an eerie atmosphere. But the docks were not as completely deserted as they at first appeared.

James Norrington in this present situation was a far cry from the clean-cut Commodore that most people were normally presented. Indeed, if any had happened to encounter this James Norrington, who had was dressed in rough clothing and had allowed his natural brown hair to hang free. They would have thought that they were looking at a stranger. Had it been any other time and place, he might have enjoyed the change, but right now, that the farthest thing from his mind. Right now, all he was concerned about was blending in. all he had to do was wait in the shadows, making sure that Elizabeth got onboard the ship safety. It should have been enough (at least as simple as such a rescue could be in such cases), or at least that's what he kept telling himself. But, the feeling of dread he had experienced when he first took his leave of Emma, the feeling that something would go terribly wrong had only increased as time had past.

Unfortunately, his premonition would prove to be true.

It happened to quickly for him to prevent. He saw the Captain of the shop that was supposed to take Elizabeth to England. He had only met Benjamin Hawkins a few times, but by report, he knew him to be a good and fair man, as well as an excellent captain. But, this would be one voyage that Captain Hawkins would not even see begin.

He was waiting under the arch that led to the docks. Looking up the road anxiously, waiting the Governor's carriage. He didn't see the shadow that was creeping up behind him. The shadow was so smooth and natural that James, himself, wasn't even aware that it was a man until it was too late.

Before James could even think to speak, the seemingly formless shadow sprouted arms and legs. The man grabbed Captain Hawkins, one hand covering his mouth, muffling the Captain's surprised grunt. Then, without so much as a pause, the mysterious stranger drove a knife into the Captain's heart. Hawkins' died almost instantly, a shocked look stamped eternally on his face.

James was sickened by what he had just witnessed. He had killed men in battle, presided over numerous executions of condemned criminals, but none of those things compared with the act of cold-blooded murder that he had just seen. It had been so quick, efficient and effortless, almost as id the person who had done it had killed like this so many times, he had the art of murder worked out to a science.

And when the shadow turned his face towards the light, James was truly horrified. He remembered that ugly, craggy face from the wedding and the subsequent meeting he had had with Beckett a few days later. Mercer, Beckett's Irish lackey, who shadowed his master like a faithful Labrador. But, now it was clear that Mercer was more than simply an efficient clerk.

But the true horror of the situation dawned on him when he suddenly realized that the worst thing that could have happened: somehow, Beckett had discovered the Governors' plan to rescue Elizabeth. Weatherby was walking straight into a trap.

Even if James could have thought of something (he was hardly a Jack Sparrow for heaven's sake), it was too late. He heard the rumbling of the carriage approaching. His heart sank when he saw that the person driving it was none other than Weatherby himself.

Weatherby pulled the carriage to a stop, murmured something to Elizabeth about staying inside, before jumping down and heading towards the now dead captain. James realized that because of the direction which Weatherby was approaching and the angle at which Mercer was standing, the Governor wouldn't be able to see that Hawkins was dead until it was too late.

There was nothing that he could do to warn his father-in-law of the disaster that he was walking into. But Elizabeth… James cut his eyes toward the carriage. There was still enough time to save her. The success or failure of this rescue had fallen squarely on his shoulders. A daunting prospect, but he couldn't question his duty. He had made a promise and he intended to keep it.

Moving stealthily toward the carriage, he tried to ignore what would be happening over at the dock. Unfortunately, heard it, and from what he heard, he could well imagine the scene.

Governor Swann approached Hawkins, "Captain," he naturally got no response, "Captain?"

James heard a squelch and a thud. Mercer removing the knife from his victim's body and Hawkins' collapsing on the ground, the Governor's horrified, "Oh, my God."

Before he could hear anymore, he was startled when the door to the carriage door suddenly opened and Elizabeth jumped down. As she landed only a few steps from him and he hadn't been expecting it, the only thing that he could say was, "Elizabeth?" In a rather stunned voice.

Elizabeth, if anything, was just as stunned to see James. "James, what are you doing here?"

Before James could answer, the oily voice of Mercer cut him off. "Evenin' Governa."

Both Elizabeth and James turned toward the dock. Mercer was smiling casually, wiping the blade coolly from him knife, as if it were an everyday occurrence for him to have a dread corpse at his feet. "Shame that," He held up a folded piece of paper that he had apparently taken from Hawkins. His tone grew scolding, as if he were a parent remonstrating a naughty child. "He was carryin' this. It's a letter to the king, it's from you."

Instinct and long years of thinking on his feet alerted James to what was coming, and the only thing that was suddenly in his mind was getting Elizabeth out.

Grabbing Elizabeth by the arm, he started pulling her away from the carriage. It was fortunate that he did so, for Elizabeth seemed to have sensed what was coming too and had started forward to defend her father. However, James proved to be stronger than Elizabeth and before she had gone two steps, she found herself in the darkest alley that he was able to locate.

"James, what are you doing? My father-"

He clapped a hand over her mouth and whispered, "Don't speak and not a sound, for both of our lives!" He had sounded harsher than he meant to come across. But perhaps, it was for the best, because he felt the dire warning in his voice and became instantly silent, though it was clear that the silence itself was a reluctant one.

They had taken shelter not a second too soon. The carriage was surrounded by red-coated soldiers, but there would be no one for them to escort back to the prison, at least, not the person that they had expected. After all, they had the Governor, who could possibly be more value able. Both Elizabeth and James stood in the shadows of the alley, waiting in silence for what seemed like endless minutes, listening as Mercer questioned the Governor none to gently. The Governor wasn't used to such rough treatment, but James gave him credit. He never gave in, once.

Finally, the guards hustled the Governor into the carriage, and the vehicle rattled down the road, with the marines dog-trotting after it. Elizabeth's eyes flicked toward James, but he held up a hand, a motion for her to continue her silence. He waited a few seconds, making sure that the coast was clear before at last nodding. They were safe, for the moment.

Elizabeth got straight to the point. "James, what it going on? What are you doing here?"

"Saving your life at the moment." He replied, "Though I didn't expect it to turn out quite this way, and neither did your father."

"Well, I'm sure you didn't. What were you expecting to do, accompany all the way to England? I'm sure Emma would have appreciated that."

"For your information, Elizabeth, I wasn't even supposed to let you know I was here. Your father merely asked me to watch over you until you had gotten safely onboard. And Emma doesn't know I'm here."

Elizabeth, despite herself, began to soften. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful." She said, softly, "It's just that I don't like to think that you both put your lives at risk for nothing and my father is now prisoner because of me."

James could easily see the conflict that Elizabeth was going through. He could sympathize, because it was not all that different from the one that he had experienced many times. Though he and Elizabeth had not worked out as a couple, he still cared a great deal for her and they were good friends.

He laid a hand on her shoulder. "He knew the risks. The only reason he even attempted it because he loves you. But there is nothing you could have done, or indeed anything either of us combined for that matter, could have done anything to prevent what just happened. And I am sorry for that.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong, it wasn't your fault. But, where does that leave me now?"

"Don't you mean, where does that leave us?'

Elizabeth cast him a sideways glance. "Us? What on earth do you mean?"

"Well, whatever you plan on doing, I'm going to help you do it."

"James, no. you should return here to Emma, stay out of this while you're still able, too."

"I made a promise, Elizabeth." Said James, firmly, "I promised your father that I wouldn't let any harm come to you and that is exactly what I plan on doing."

"I can't allow you to endanger yourself for me."

"Well, are any of safe, anymore? Beckett is like a plague. It doesn't matter where you try to hide from him, eventually all will be affected by his presence."

"I don't wan a protector." Said Elizabeth, with more bravado that she might have felt, for in truth, a part of her would have been quite willing to accept James' help.

"Don't think of me as a protector, then." Said James, "I prefer to see it as someone to watch your back."

Elizabeth considered this, before she finally smiled, "In that case, do you happen to know the way to Beckett's office from here?"

Now, it was James's turn to look at Elizabeth in confusion. "I think so. But why?"

Elizabeth's smile grew wider as a plan began to take shape in her mind. "I do believe that it's time we paid him a visit."

* * *

Hope that everyone liked this little double-header. Of course, this is where the Au part of the story really starts to get going in force, so be sure and tell me what you think. We will be catching up with Emma later in the story, but she will have a significant role to play in the proceedings, one that will bring her into direct conflict with Beckett. But, I don't want to give too much away. Just wait.

Next chater: James and Elizabeth pay a little midnight visit to Beckett and do a little aggressive negotiating, at the point of a pistol.


	17. Chapter 17: Negotiation

Chapter 15: Negotiation

The hour was late, but still Beckett was working. From his perspective, the job of cleaning up Port Royal was proving to be a twenty-four hour task, not to mention his numerous underground operations.

As he walked in to his office, a lantern held high as he read from an official document, he didn't seem to notice at first that there was anything out of the usual. However, that soon changed when he arrived at his desk. It was small enough to not be noticed by many people. The lid of one of the chests on his desk was opened slightly in and of itself, this wouldn't have startled him, except that this particular chest just happened to contain the Letters of Mark that he had planned to offer Jack Sparrow.

He slowed, stopped. He studied the chest for a long moment, before he slowly opened the lid. He was not surprised to see that it was empty. Looking up, Beckett spoke aloud to the seemingly empty room. "No doubt, you've discovered that loyalty is no longer the currency of the realm as your father believes."

Elizabeth Swann stepped out from the shadows behind him, where she had been hiding. "And what is?"

Beckett turned to regard her, "I'm afraid currency is the currency of the realm."

Elizabeth came towards him. "I expect then we can come to some sort of understanding. I'm here to negotiate."

"I'm listening." Said Beckett, indulgently, coming forward to meet her.

Quick as lightening, Elizabeth had a pistol aimed at Beckett's head. "I'm listening intently." He amended, and this time, Elizabeth got the feeling that he really meant it.

"And I suggest that you continue to do so." A new voice suddenly spoke from the doorway.

Beckett could only turn his head a fraction to glance at the profile in the doorway, but he already had a pretty good idea who it was. "Ah, Commodore Norrington, how pleasant of you to join us; a pity that you didn't bring your wife along. This would have made a charming picture for tea."

James refused to allow Beckett to see that he had poured salt on a gaping wound. "Sorry to disappoint your sense of aesthetics. I'm merely here as backup. The lady if doing the talking that you should be paying attention too."

"Is she?" said Beckett, turning back to Elizabeth, "Than speak."

Elizabeth held up the Letters of Mark. "These Letters of Mark, they are signed by the king?"

"Yes, and they're not valid till they bear my signature and my seal."

"Or else I would not still be here." Elizabeth's eyes grew smug, as she had an in-road of knowledge that Beckett was unaware of. "You sent Will to get the compass owned by Jack Sparrow. It will do no good."

"Do explain."

Elizabeth stepped closer. "I have been to the Isla de Muerta, I have seen the treasure myself; there is something you need to know."

Unfortunately, Beckett would not be falling for Elizabeth's bluff. "Ah, so you believe that the compass leads only to the Isla de Muerta and so you hope to spare me from an evil fate?" Elizabeth's eyebrows jumped in surprise. How could he have known?

Beckett wondered at the mind of this girl. Did she truly believe that he would unthinkingly walk into something that was so clearly a fool's trap? "But, you mustn't worry." Turning his back on her, he walked a few steps forward, grandly observing the large map of the would that was painted on the wall of his office. "I care not for cursed, Aztec gold. My desires are not so provincial." Turning back, he offered his own little bit of knowledge, "There's more than one chest of value in these waters." He came back to her, "So perhaps you may wish to enhance your offer."

Elizabeth, fuming dug the pistol into his chin and uncocked it. Forcing him to walk over to the desk, she shoved the papers at him. "Consider into your calculations that you robbed me of my wedding night." She said, through clenched teeth.

"So, I did." He replied, who didn't seem to be bothered in the least by her accusation. "A marriage interrupted, or fate intervenes?" He signed the papers and impressured his seal on the hot wax, while he remarked, seemingly off-handed. "You're making great efforts to ensure Jack Sparrow's freedom."

Elizabeth's eyes widened and she grabbed at the letter. "There aren't going to Jack!"

"Oh, really?" said Beckett, with a keen interest, "To ensure Mr. Turner's freedom, then?" Elizabeth could only curse herself that she had wandered straight into Beckett's trap, she had spoken too much. "I'll still want that compass; consider that in your calculations."

Taking the Letters of Marque back from Lord Beckett, Elizabeth backed away from Beckett, her eyes trained on him, the pistol still uncocked and ready to fire lest he should try anything foolish, until she at last skittered quickly out of the door.

James had kept his own pistol trained on Beckett for the entire period of this tense negotiation. Now that he was sure Elizabeth was safe, he lingered for a moment, trying to fight the temptation that was urging him to pull the trigger, or do something, anything to wipe that irritating smirk of Beckett's face.

"You do realize, of course, that you have been caught in the act of aiding and abetting a criminal?"

"I don't know what criminal you're referring to. I know of no such crime. All I have been guilty is rescuing a lady from wrongful imprisonment."

"Perhaps some might see it that way. But, who do you think will believe you? Open your eyes to the world around you, Commodore, the only language that anyone understands anymore is power. Honor, chivalry, mercy, they belong in the past. Your primitive sense of duty will one day be your undoing?"

"Primitive? I'll take it any day, Beckett, over your so call new order."

"You scoff now, but I can promise you that there will come a day when you see that truth of my words and when you just might need my help."

"I will do that when I have taken leave of my senses."

Beckett smiled, indulgently. "And in the meantime you may find it difficult to return to Port Royal with your rank still in tact. I can only assume how Emma will react when she hears the extent of what you have done. And perhaps, she might have come in for questioning."

James hold on the pistol tightened and his voice grew dangerously low. "If you honestly think that will get you anywhere. Question Emma if you wish, you will find that she knows nothing." James noted with no small amount of satisfaction that Beckett's smugness diminished a notch when he heard this. Pressing his advantage, he continued, "And, besides, I doubt that she is in any danger from you. I know that the feelings that you _still_ have for her will keep her safe, at least for the time being." Beckett blanched, though the reaction was minute. Now it was James' turn to smile. "Oh, yes, Beckett. She told me everything. You should reconsider your opinion of my primitive sense of honor, because at this moment, it is the only thing that is keeping you alive."

It was a stand off, neither one of them would budge, neither of them had won. But that didn't mean that one of them couldn't walk away. James decided that it was time for him to make a graceful exit.

He began backing away, his pistol still pointed straight at Beckett. "I do hope," he said in parting, "that this will be our last meeting for a very, very long time."

And then he disappeared. Beckett walked toward the doorway, watching the figure of James Norrington vanish into the shadows. On the surface, he seemed to have lost. His opponents had seized what he had planned on using as a bargaining chip and he had lost two valuable resources.

However, he didn't look disappointed. In face, a smile of satisfaction was tugging at the corners of his mouth true, he had suffered a minor set back, but he had a lot of experience turning such setbacks to his own advantage. He saw such an opportunity now, and he suspected that if he played his cards right, he would not only have each person where he wanted, and he just might be able to achieve the goal that for almost ten years he had been able to dream of accomplishing.

Yes, just a few right strokes and any setback could become the perfect opportunity.

* * *

Elizabeth was waiting for James at the foot of the stairs. "What kept you so long?"

"I had a little unfinished business to take care of." Replied James, cryptically, "And I'm not even sure if I was able to get it finished."

Elizabeth had a sneaking suspicion that there was more to this statement than James was telling her, but now wasn't the time to talk about it.

"So, where do we go from here?" She asked him as they began to creep away from Beckett's office.

James looked at her. "Actually, I was hoping that you could answer that?"

Elizabeth shifted nervously. "To be quite honest, I hadn't thought much beyond this."

"Well, that's certainly comforting." Muttered James, but then he suddenly remembered something, or rather, he remembered someone. "Follow me, Elizabeth. I may just have the solution we're looking for."

* * *

Lieutenant Andrew Groves was, to put it mildly, surprised to receive visitors so late at night. And to say that he was struck speechless with shock when he saw who the visitors would be an understatement.

"Commodore, Miss Swann…? What?.... How did you…?"

"We don's have time to go into the details, Groves." Said James, urgently. "Do you remember how I could rely on you no matter what?"

"Sir, of course, but what does that have to that-"

"Well, I need your help now." He glanced back at Elizabeth, "We need your help."

Groves looked from James, to Elizabeth, and then back to James, before finally nodding and saying, "What do you need me to do?"

* * *

Hope that everyone enjoyed this chapter. You know the old routine, push that little button and review, if you please.

Next chapter: We catch up with Will and Marie, who catch up on what has been happening to them both during the last year. We are about to get a little glimpse into what it means to be in love with Jack Sparrow.


	18. Chapter 18: Catching Up

Sorry if this chapter took awhile to post, but it is a pretty lengthy one. But, on the upside, it has a lot of nice moments with Jack and Marie. Also, watch out for the transposition of a scene from AWE. I have adapted it here for my own purposes. Still, I think that it works out pretty well. Anyway, I do hope that you enjoy.

Chapter 16: Catching Up

The _Black Pearl_ was underway. Her destination was a mystery too the crew, but considering the events of the past few days, that was hardly a surprise. At the very least, Jack seemed to know where he was going this time. He insisted that he be the one who would steer the _Pearl_to their destination. Once the sails were set, there was little the crew could do but sit and wait. They just did what they were told and hoped that their fortunes would soon be changing to something more positive.

That suited Will and Marie just fine. It gave them a chance to catching up on the year that they had spent apart. Will was the first to tell what had happened during their separation. He would have been the first to admit that he had probably experienced far less exiting things than what Marie had been doing. Nonetheless, she was thrilled when she heard that Will was finally engaged, if the great bear hug that she gave him was any indication of her feelings.

"Oh, Will, I'm so happy for you." Said Marie. However, he didn't have a ready answer since her hug had cut off his air supply. "So, you finally worked up the nerve, eh?"

Will didn't answer immediately, because even if she had released him, he was busy coughing for a few seconds. When he was able to stand upright again, he saw that Marie wore an embarrassed smile. "Sorry about that."

"It's all right, I just want to get back to Elizabeth in one piece." He finally regained his breath. "You've certainly gotten stronger."

"Comes with hauling the ropes and climbing the rigging." Said Marie, grinning. "I've gotten pretty good at it. You have to be fast. When you're with someone as notorious as Jack Sparrow, it helps to have the fastest ship in the Caribbean." She noticed that Will was looking at her in a strange way. "What is it?"

"It's just that I have to admit that the announcement of your marriage came as something of a surprise to me. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wasn't really in a place where I could tell you, Will. After we got married, Jack and I went on what he called a honeymoon."

"Let me guess, every port you put into, you were shot at, wanted or captured and you always had to leave in a great hurry."

"For the most part." Said Marie, grinning. "It was actually kind of fun." She sobered for a moment, as she admitted, "And I have to say, that I still wasn't entirely convinced that you had approved of my choice. I wasn't sure if you would never want to speak to me again if you knew what happened."

"Marie, you shouldn't have doubted that. It was Jack that I sometimes doubted. I doubted if he would take care of you. Don't give me that look, Marie. Know you can take care of yourself. But, I'm your brother. I'm supposed to worry about these things."

Marie could only smile at Will's unfeigned honesty. She wouldn't have expected anything less from him. "It hasn't been easy, you know. Jack and I have had our share of nasty situations."

"Yes, I had already gathered that, but than, I've only heard rumors."

Marie groaned in mock exasperation. "All right, what do you want to know?"

Will tried to look innocent, "Now what makes you think I want to know anything?"

"Because, we haven't seen each other in a year. You've told me everything that's happened to you and the only thing you've heard about me is rumor. Naturally one of the first things you want to learn from me is what things are true and which aren't. Which brings us back to the original question: what do you know?"

"That's such a broad question considering everything that I have heard, I hardly know where to begin."

"Just pick something and run with it?"

"Well, in that case, is it true that you threatened to castrate Jack is he didn't leave the other women alone?"

Marie groaned, for real this time. "You had to pick that one didn't you?"

Will grinned, seeming to enjoy Marie's reaction. "You said pick anything. So, is it true or not?"

Marie took a moment to answer. "Up to a point."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, Will, that Jack, at least at that time, was wiser than I was." She paused and smiled, as if remembering some precious memory. "And more honorable that I thought him capable of."

_FLASHBACK_

When the _Black Pearl_ pulled into Tortuga, it was normally a time of pleasure-seeking for the crew. After all, Tortuga had everything. It was loud, and it was dirty. There was gambling, there were plenty of taverns where one could get seemingly unlimited amounts of ale and rum, there was always a good brawl or two to be had, and, of course, there were wenches willing to give even the most unattractive buccaneer pleasing attentions if the price was right. Given these multiple attractions, what more could a pirate have wanted?

Unfortunately, the _Black_ _Pearl_ wasn't exactly enjoying a peaceful berth. Storms of quite a different nature were tossing the ship almost beyond control, and there was nothing that the crew could do about it, but lay low and keep as out of sight as possible.

The problem was their contentious captain had once again clashed with his firey-temepered lady. That would have been nothing new; hardly a day went by when Jack and Marie hadn't been getting into a fight about something. But for the past few weeks, tempers between these strong-willed people had been raging and this was one of those times. The fight had started in the Captain's Cabin, but when the door burst open and Marie stormed out, every man within earshot winced and tried their best to become invisible.

"Don't think that you can use that line on me, Jack Sparrow!" Marie shouted at Jack, who had appeared at the cabin door just seconds after Marie had flung it off its hinges. Jack seemed to be slightly dumbfounded by what had just happened, which was why he no ready answer. It was doubtful whether Marie would have even listened, as she was still in the middle of her assault. "Don't think you can use me as you did all those other whores."

"Marie, be reasonable." No one was more aware than Jack just how utterly pitiful he sounded at that moment.

"Be reasonable?!" thundered Marie, "Your eye starts roving as soon as we put into port and you want me to be reasonable?!"

"She was only one and we weren't even doing anything."

"You certainly looked as if you were at least planning on doing something. 'Oh, I would just love to see your ship, Jack.'" She said as she began to imitate what she had heard only half-an-hour before just outside the docks of Port Royal. "'Tell me, is it as magnificent as all the stories make it out to be?' 'Why yes, it is my dear and I can already tell you that you'll love her. I always can tell the ones who have taste.' Now, how can I have heard that and not known you were planning something."

"I wasn't planning on doing anything."

"Than what were you doing with her?"

"I was…" Jack began, but then stopped short. As embarrassing as it was to admit, Marie had stumped him for words. He had spoken the truth, he hadn't wanted to bed the woman, but that had always been his intention before. If that hadn't been what he had aiming for, what, then, had he been trying to do? It was an interesting question, and he maybe would have liked to consider it further. Unfortunately, Marie made that rather impossible."

"You don't have that good answer to that, do you? I should have known."

"Should have known what?"

"That you couldn't change. I've been onboard this ship for four months. I had thought that I might have seen some change in your behavior, but I guess I was wrong. What am I, just your bit of stuff while we're at sea?"

"Marie, that's not true."

"Well, you'll forgive me, Jack, if I'm having a little trouble believing you at the moment, because I'm quite personally beginning to wonder if you've been lying to me all this time. In fact, I'm beginning to wonder if it was a mistake to have come with you at all!" With that, Marie stormed off the _Black Pearl_ and disappeared from view.

She left a stunned silence in her wake, as all the mouths of the crew gaping openly at either Marie or Jack, who was himself staring after Marie with a look that suggested more regret than annoyance. The regret was a strange emotion. Oftentimes, when he lost a fight with Marie, he seemed annoyed on the surface, but there was always a light in his eyes that suggested that he actually enjoyed losing, as long as it was Marie that he lost too.

Now, there was nothing like that in his face. Just regret, regret that Marie had accused him rightly and regret that he had been stupid enough to place himself in that position in the first place.

Suddenly becoming aware of the face that all eyes of the crew were upon him, he turned towards them irately and said, "What are you looking at? Get back to work!" The crew, awakened out of their trance, quickly fell to their duties. Whether of not that were already done with them was beside the point. The best thing that they could do in this instance was to look busy.

As for Jack, he knew that his situation had just gone from bad to worse. No matter what he did, rumors were bound to start about this little incident. And he wasn't sure that the rumors would do anything to mend relations between him and Marie.

He couldn't understand what was happening between Marie and him lately. It seemed as if she were always looking for an argument, and he was beginning to admit that he wasn't exactly blameless in all her accusations. He had begun to wonder, was this what all coupes went through? If so, it was no less than a miracle that the human race managed to procreate each new generation.

His own feelings were confused. He loved Marie, but at the same time, he wasn't sure if he could stand going on like this much longer. He had a rather terrible idea that the first move would have to be his. He shook his head in despair. He had experienced many things during his life as a pirate, but love was certainly the most challenging (not to mention the most confusing and irritating) things that he had yet to encounter.

Jack's problems only seemed to increase with the advent of dusk. He had still received no answer to the questions which were continuing to bite at his mind. And as if that wasn't enough, he was joined in company by two ladies of the evening that he had known in bygone days. Scarlet and Giselle were pretty enough (and, though Jack dared not say it, they did their line of work very well), and he had enjoyed their company in the past. However, they really couldn't have come to him at a worse time.

First, there had been their simpering suggestion that he needed company since his lady friend had run off. Jack tried telling them that there was no need for that, but they didn't seem to get the veiled hit and insisted on following him to the dock. Along the way, they used every conceivable method they could think of, to get him to think that perhaps he needed their attention very badly.

He tried, and at first, he was successful at being his usual charming, suave self. But, after about half-an-hour, he began to notice something. He wasn't enjoying himself at all. His persona was becoming strained. These women were beginning to irritate him, and try as he might, and he began to find it increasingly difficult to hide it.

When he started to realize that the company of women his had once enjoyed was offering him no satisfaction, everything that he had been confused about became so astonishingly clear that he wondered why he hadn't thought of it before. He had changed, or to be more specific, four months with Marie had changed him. he had not only grown used to her presence and personality, he had come to cherish it. He actually enjoyed those fights, even when he lost, and those times when they were not fighting had been truly wonderful.

He had connection with Marie that he couldn't have with anybody else. These women were only in it for the money, and though Jack wouldn't have minded that before, now he felt the complete opposite. He was now beginning to see that they were shallow and empty-headed. They couldn't even tell that he was losing his patience with them. He had said a dozen things that Marie would have picked up on and turned into a verbal fencing match. How accustomed he had grown to talking with someone who understood him and who he understood. How detestable it was to try and go back, when he really didn't want too.

Now, there is no telling how long this might have gone on, for though Jack finally understood, he still didn't have any idea how to turn truth into action. Fortunately, he did not have to wait long to have an opportunity come along.

As they approached the _Black Pearl_, and he was trying to figure out a way to shed his unwanted barnacles, when Gibbs suddenly hurried up to him, "Cap'n, there somethin' that you need to-"

"Can't you see that he's busy?" Scarlet said, cutting him off.

"Yes, come back later." Sniffed Giselle.

Gibbs was taken aback by the sharp words, but Jack, inwardly thankful for the chance to break away, said, "Actually, ladies, if Gibbs has somethin' to say to me. I have to listen to 'im. Part of me duty as Cap'n, you understand. Don't go away."

"Oh, all right, Jack." Said Scarlet, shooting him a moon-eyed glance which Jack had to say made her look like a pathetically stupid deer. "But do come back. Don't forget that you promised to give me a ride."

"I was to be given the first ride." Objected Giselle when she heard this.

"You must have heard wrong. Jack told me the last time I saw him."

"You're just looking for a chance to be alone with him."

"Like that's not what you're looking for."

"I'm only looking to comfort him in his hour of greatest need."

Whatever Scarlet might have said in retaliation, Jack didn't hear. He had managed to extract himself before they had come to blows. He was aware at how ugly such altercations could become. "What is it Gibbs?" he asked, once they were a few feet away.

"It's Marie."

"Uh oh, what has she done? She hasn't mutinied has she?" Heaven knows he deserved it, and that was a miracle for Jack to admit in and of itself.

"No, Jack. It's worse than that. She's gone missin'."

"Missing? What do you mean missing?"

"Just like it sounds, Jack. She's missin' and can't be found. I've got half the crew scouring Tortuga, but so far, there's been neither hide nor hair of her to be found."

Jack seemed to stand straighter when he heard this. Any sign of his normally devil may care attitude was gone, replaced by a demeanor of seriousness, quite unlike the Jack Sparrow that Gibbs was used to seeing. "Cap'n?" he said, confused.

Jack didn't seem to hear him. Instead, he suddenly became aware of the cat fight that was going on behind him. Before he would have found the concept of two women fighting over him flattering; now he simply found it irritating. Turning around, he was confronted by the sight of Scarlet and Giselle attempting to pull each other's hair out. "Ladies," he snapped, as he approached them, "will you please shut it?" The two women stopped and looked at Jack. "Listen to me, because I am only going to say this once." He turned to Scarlet. "Yes, I lied to you." To Giselle. "No, I don't love you." Back to Scarlet. "Of course, it makes you look fat." And so on and on, back and forth between the two, while Scarlet and Giselle growing more and more appalled the more they heard. "I've never been to Brussels. It is pronounced egregious. By the way, I've never actually met Pizarro, but I love his pies. And all of this pales in utter significance to the fact that Marie Turner, the woman I love, and who, I might add if far more beautiful than either of you put together, is gone, probably all because of me. So, if you would kindly shove off and never come back, that would be the best thing that you could do me. Savvy?"

That was the last straw. Both Giselle and Scarlet were fuming by this time and they both delivered such resounding slaps to Jack's face that his cheeks were burning from the impact.

"Just see if we ever seek out your attentions, Jack Sparrow." Spat Giselle, over her shoulder as she and Scarlet beat a hasty retreat back into the town, hoping to be able to salvage something out of the night.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish." Muttered Jack, as they left.

"Ya know ya won't be getting' much business with the ladies here, now you've done that." observed Gibbs, "You know how they are here, they stick together, and they ain't quick to forgive a slight."

"There's only one lady's forgiveness I'm aimin' to get." Said Jack, almost to himself. "Hold down things here, Gibbs. I'll be back soon. I hope."

"Where are ya goin'?" asked Gibbs.

"To find Marie. Where do you think I'm goin'?"

"How will you find 'er when half the crew couldn't?"

"Simple." Said Jack. "I'll look for trouble. I'm sure that she won't be far behind."

Jack turned out to be right. He did fid trouble, and as he had suspected, Marie was right in the middle of it. He found her in a back alley of a tavern, where she was engaged in a literal fist fight with 4 rough-hewn pirates. Jack had seen Marie in battle many times and he knew her to be more than competent in that area, but right now, she had outdone herself. She was losing, and Jack reason to suspect that her attackers would be doing something worse with her than simply boasting when they were through with her.

Now, the old Jack would have probably walked away or at least gotten into an ethical debate with himself and delayed long enough to not do anything of use. But Jack was sure of his feelings now, and he wasted no time in striding into the fray. He had no idea what he was going to do; but that had never stopped him from doing something stupid before.

One of the burly men had just grabbed a hold of Marie's arm, and at the laughing encouragement of his companions was just about to deliver a devastating blow to her face, when Jack pushed his way through them. "Excuse me." he said, ignoring the shocked expressions of the company, "Pardon me, and excuse me. Stop takin' up the road, would you?" In the midst of pushing them out of the way, he "accidentally" managed to give the one who was holding onto Marie a sizable push, as well as a convenient knee in the appropriate place. As the unfortunate ruffian fell to the earth, writhing and groaning in agony, Jack offered his usual brand of sympathy. "Oops, sorry, mate. You should be more careful. Now," he said turning toward the rest, "supposin' you take your friend here and run along?"

The gang of three other (the fourth was still nursing his sore groin), had managed to regain their bravado. All told, they would have easily been able to squash both him and Marie and make it look easy. "Is she yours?" asked one of them, pointing to Marie, who appeared to be somewhat dazed.

"In a manner of speakin'. But I wouldn't exactly call her mine. She's free to make her own decisions."

The pirates seemed to get a big laugh and the one who seemed to be the self-appointed spokesman of the little group (a big, strapping fellow who had blond, stringy hair, close set, squinty eyes and ugly, blotchy skin), stepped forward and said, "Well, it just so happens that it's be her own choice that she's here. So, why don't you run along and let us get on with our business?"

"She's here, freely? I find that rather hard to believe. I don't know of any woman who would be a willing suppliant to the "business" as you had planned with her."

The pirates were all back on their feet by this time, and they were stating to get restless. Blotchy took another step forward, looming over Jack threateningly. "Look, it ain't any of your business. I'm gonna give you one more chance to more along before you won't be able to more at all." the other three goons all chuckled, as if that were some great joke.

But Jack refused to move. A deadly seriousness was lurking beneath the flippant look in the eyes. "I'm not goin' anywhere without her. And I believe that you had better give her to me, willingly, before something happens that you'll regret."

"Oh, yeah, you and what army?"

Jack had more or less walked into this without any plan, he had trusted that something would come to his mind, and he had been right. He had managed to gather that Blotchy and his companions, while brawny and strong, probably together had the brains of a rock, if not less than even that. Given that, there was a weapon that Jack could us which would be powerful than steel: his own reputation.

Smiling confidently, he drew his pistol and pointed it at Blotchy. "Son, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?"'

At the name of Jack Sparrow, a look of fear crossed the faces of the hoodlums, and their bravado began to visibly wilt.

"Th-The Captain Sparrow?" said one of the gang.

"The one who escaped from Fort Charles?" said the second.

"By defeating an entire regiment of Marines" said another.

"Single-handedly?" finished Blotchy and Jack noted with satisfaction that his voice had taken on a rather squeaky tone.

Jack hadn't heard that version yet, but it was good. And fortunately, it served his purpose. He nodded, his smile growing wider. They were playing right into his hands. "The very same."

The gang was now backing away, growing more nervous with each passing second. Jack stepped up, his voice dangerous. "And let me tell you, the Royal Navy, hoodlum pirates, it's all the same to me. Just another bully who didn't know when to back off; And I've never liked bullies." Blotchy gulped visibly, and the rest of the gang had broken into a sweat. "Now, I'm going to give you five seconds to get movin'. I suggest you take them. It won't be a pretty sight for anyone who remains behind." The pirates hesitated. Jack uncocked the pistol. "One…"

That was enough. The four men were scurrying away, pushing and shoving each in their haste to get away from the infamous Jack Sparrow before he did something, well, infamous.

Jack chuckled as he watched d them go. Not bad for only having himself. Hearing Marie groan, however, he forgot about being smug, becoming concerned instead.

Kneeling beside her, he saw that she had some bruises and was dirty, but she appeared to be unhurt. Nonetheless, he felt the need to ask, "You all right, Marie?"

"You really didn't have to do that." said Marie, somewhat irately. But there was something about her voice that struck Jack as odd. "I had things perfectly under control."

She was struggling to her feet. His movements were somewhat less than her usual grace. "Yeah, you had things perfectly under control to your own ruin, if you don't mind my sayin' so."

Marie simply huffed, but made no reply. "How'd you get into this mess, anyway?" Jack asked, watching her closely. Something was not right. "You usually show at least a little more judgment than this."

"You know, it's funny. I can't really remember. It's the strangest thing. I was just sitting in this tavern, th-the Sea Spaniel, no it was the Sea Dog, I think. It was something like that. I had been having a few drinks, when this man came up to me and said, what did he say?"

"Something flattering, I suppose?" said Jack, trying not to sound too jealous.

"Perhaps, I don't know. But I wouldn't very well have gone with him if he had something insulting, would I?" She suddenly burst out laughing, as she had uttered and hysterical joke. Stumbling over her feet, she nearly fell, but caught herself just at the last moment, and leaned against the side of one of the buildings that bordered the alley, continuing to laugh.

"Marie," said Jack, moving to her side, "you're drunk."

Marie turned and looked at him, his eyes filled with disbelief. "What?"

"I serif your drunk, you know, had one to many, got in over your head, impaired."

"Well, sorry to disappoint you sense of observation, but I'm perfectly all right." She tried to stand up straight and walk. Unfortunately, the ground felt like it was rocking as hard as a ship in a high gale, and she was unable to keep her balance. She would have pitched head long into the mud again had Jack not caught her around the waist.

"Marie, Marie." Said Jack, as he shook his head.

"Oh, please, don't say Marie like that." She groaned.

"Like what?"

"That's the way you always say my name when you know you've won an argument."

"Oh, so you're admitting I'm right?"

She tried to beam him an annoyed glance, but it lacked the necessary edge. "I am admitting no such thing, and would you please stop holding me like that?"

"Sorry." Said Jack, as he released her. He had more or less forgotten that he had been holding her. "I didn't now it bothered you."

"I never said it bothered me." said Marie, after a moment's silence. "I just don't like the idea of where those arms happened to have been in the last few hours. Why did you come looking for me? Did you run out of women to keep you company?"

"I cam because I happened to be worried about you. Come on, Marie, what's going on?" Marie opened her mouth to reply, but Jack stopped. "And don't say that isn't anything because frankly I'm buyin' it. Picking fights you have no chance of wining, running off without tellin' anybody, getting so drunk you can't walk straight? This isn't like you, Marie, and you and I both know it. Now out with it."

Marie had listened to all this with a blank expression and Jack wasn't sure how much of this she had heard or even understood, but when she spoke again, her voice had lost all of its bravado and toughness. Jack was shocked to see that she was on the brink of crying. "You want to know what's wrong with me, Jack? Fine, I'll tell you what's wrong with me. You are what's wrong with me."

"I'm not quite sure I follow."

"You've made me sick, Jack, but you're the only cure for what I have."

Jack, needless to say, was unsure how to take that. Marie just stared, as if waiting for some sort of response. "Well, aren't you going to say something?"

"As soon as I can actually figure out what that means and come up with some sort of response that won't get me killed, I'll get back to you."

Marie smiled humorlessly. "Everything's a joke with you, isn't it? That's one of the things that I find so annoying about you and it's one of the qualities that I like the most. You get under my skin the more that I stay with you. I can't seem to get away from you. At sea, that's good, because I know that you won't be distracted. But, as soon as we put into port, I feel that I can't leave you alone for two seconds without you eyeing every other woman in sight." She started laughing again. "You know, you should really think about how lucky you are. If anybody else had done half the things you've done, I would have walked away long ago. But I keep coming back, because for reasons that sound silly to me sometimes, I love you." Jack was somewhat stunned. Marie had only been this open with him a few times, but this was by far more than even he had heard her say. "All I ask is that every so often, you would let me know that you feel the same. Instead, I'm beginning to feel crowded out."

Jack had been hoping that they could save this conversation for another time. But, since Marie had more or less poured out her soul to him, he felt obliged to make some sort of confession of his own. "Well, you're not going to feel crowded out anymore."

"What?"

"I guess you could say that I finally have come to realize that compared to you, most every other woman in the world is not worth my attention."

"Jack, just give it to me straight. I'm not really in the mood to try and unravel your sayings."

"Okay, then try this. I've set the so-called ladies of the evening packing. Now, there will just be you."

Marie stared at Jack. "You-you mean that?"

Jack nodded. "Every word, luv. I promise."

Marie still seemed unbelieving. "Why would you do something like that?"

"Because I love you. And frankly, Marie you've sort of got me in a position that I can't, and don't particularly care to escape from. So, if you don't mind, maybe we could try starting over?"

For a moment, a rather uncomfortable silence passed between them. He would have been lying if he said he hadn't noticed a certain change in Marie's expression. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he could tell that it wasn't anger or annoyance.

Clearing his throat nervously, he said, "Well, we had better head back to the _Pearl. _No doubt the crew will be wondering."

Putting one arm around her waist to support her, they began making their way out of the alley. "If I may ask, why exactly did you think that getting drunk would solve your life problems?"

"I was following your theory on life, Jack. Rum can get you through times without money better than times than money without rum."

"Ah, yes, well." Was it his imagination, or was Marie leaning closer to him than was perhaps necessary. "That's true of many circumstances, and I can't really say I disapprove of the idea, but next time try not to get drunk alone."

Marie suddenly stopped, turned to face him and, to his complete surprise, put her arms around his neck. "But, I'm not alone anymore, Jack. You're with me, I'm with you, alone." That last word "alone" was said with obvious enjoyment, and there was a sparkle in those blue-green eyes that Jack had seen a few times before, but never wit this much intensity.

And then, it dawned on him. Marie wasn't flirting with him. She was downright trying to seduce him. "Look, Marie, under normal circumstance, I would jump at the chance, but right now isn't the best of times."

"Normal circumstances, odd times, with you it's all the same, isn't it?"

She had leaned closer to him and Jack was finding himself hard pressed to control himself. Why did she have to look so gorgeous right now of all times? No, she wasn't just gorgeous, she was tempting. Yes, that was the perfect word, tempting.

"Marie, we discussed this, remember? Not till you were ready. You thought it was a good idea, I thought it was a good idea. Granted, it did take some persuasion, but I know now that it's all for the best."

"And who says that I'm not ready now?"

"Call it a hunch." He said, trying to extract himself from an embrace that he didn't really want to walk away from. "Now, we had better-"

He had been trying to out some distance between him and her, but she suddenly pulled him back with fierce energy and kissed him. Jack had kissed Marie before, and he had always secretly thought that she would exceptional once they took it a few steps more, but not even he had ever felt anything like this. She was assaulting her mouth with her lips and tongue. A whirlwind of sensations, that he had never felt so intensely before was taking his senses by storm.

He realized that he was falling rather quickly. In fact, he actually did allow himself to be carried away by this current of passion for a few moments. He began to kiss her back with as much force as she was giving. Feeling her body shudder beneath his hands and hearing that slight moan of pleasure did nothing to convince him to stop.

But at the very last possible second, he managed to pull himself back. He couldn't take Marie, not like this, not while she wasn't the master of her own self. It was the only right and decent thing to do. And he had never loathed doing the right and decent thing more in his life, but he loved her enough to do it.

He pulled away, holding her at arms' length. She didn't seem to be offended, merely puzzled, as if she couldn't figure out why he had pulled away. Which he was grateful for; it would be difficult enough to do this without having her start screaming at him.

"Marie, why don't we just go back to the ship, you sleep off this stupor of yours and we'll talk about this in the morning, all right?"

Marie didn't seem to register what Jack had said. In fact, as soon as he said, she seemed to stand stock still for a moment, then her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed against him. He managed to catch her, but just barely.

"Well, that's one way to end the conversation." He said, as he gathered her up and started back to the _Pearl. _Jack had to admit, that though he was sorry for her, it was probably a good thing that she had passed out when she did. If she had attempted to go at him again as she had before, he wouldn't have been able to resist her a second time.

* * *

Marie was not really in the best of spirits the next morning. She had a splitting headache, her entire body felt like rubber, and there was a haze around her eyes that wouldn't go away. She couldn't remember much of anything that happened the night before; it was all a blur. She wasn't too hung over to notice however, that she had woken up in Jack's cabin. That gave her some doubt. After all, there was no telling what he might have done the night before.

But she really felt too horrible to particularly care at that moment. She staggered out of the room and stifled a moan as the bright Caribbean sun stabbed her in the retinas.

"Good morning, Marie." Came Jack's voice.

Now, Marie did groan. The last thing that she wanted was a cheerful morning person. Nonetheless, there was little she could do to avoid him. "What's good about it?" she huffed.

Jack came into her line of sight, grinning at her congenially. "So, how you feelin' this morning?"

"Like I went a couple of rounds with a shark."

"That ain't to far from the truth; you actually had an encounter with a few of 'em last night."

"My memory of last night is kind of hazy."

"That's no surprise. You seemed to have drunk enough to knock out several men your size."

Marie beamed him an annoyed glare. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Only marginally. You're the one who's always tellin' me to watch how much I drink. It's kind of nice to see the roles reversed."

"You ooze with compassion." Muttered Marie.

"Don't worry, you'll feel better in a day or two."

"If I don't die before then."

"Don't be dramatic, Marie. It doesn't suit you." He stopped for a moment, as if considering his next words, before he asked, "Marie, you don't mind my askin', but why did you get yourself drunk? It's not like you."

Marie laughed humorlessly. "I don't know why I reacted that way myself. I guess I was so upset that I wasn't thinking straight. It's stupid now that I think about it. The only answer I can give is that one thing led to another." She looked at closely Jack. "Do you mind if I ask you something, and I would like an honest answer."

'Depends on the question, luv. I've told you that before."

"Than try this. I don't remember much of what happened last night, but I remember enough." She paused for a moment and looked down slightly embarrassed to be asking this, but she had to know. "Jack, did we?"

"Did we what?"

"Do I have to spell everything out for you? You know exactly what I'm talking about. If I was drunk enough not to remember, I would hope you would if you were sober."

Jack took a moment to answer before finally honestly admitting, "Not physically, though if I may say so, you were the best that I've experienced on a spiritual plan."

"I don't know how to take that exactly."

"Well, it was meant to be a compliment."

"I also seem to remember something else. A promise…"

"Ah yes, that. I did mean it, if that's what you're going to ask. You're the only one in my life, from this second until, well, however long we last."

Despite her pounding headache, Marie felt herself smiling a little. "Oh, I think you'll have to put up with me a little while longer. You had better mean what you just said, Jack, because if I catch you breaking your word, I'm going to make sure that you won't be able to enjoy the attentions of another woman again."

Jack smiled nervously. Even suffering a hard hangover, he knew that Marie wasn't kidding. "Then I'll make sure that I'll keep my word."

_END FLASHBACK_

"And he did." Said Marie, finishing her story. "I've caught him slipping up, and I have watched him like a hawk."

Will laughed and shook his head. "I have a hard time picturing you drunk."

Mare's face went rather sour at the memory. "Believe me, it was singularly unpleasant. I don't know how other people do it, including Jack. Sometimes, the stunts he pulls…"She shook her head, "It sometimes seems like I just met him. It's the same for him. We've both had to get each other out of a number of scrapes over the past year."

"Nevertheless, you've stayed together and are still on an equal footing. That's more than many people cane say after a marriage lasting ten years, much less one."

"And since when are you such an expert on marriage?"

"Observation, that's all."

"And what have you "observed" about me and Jack?" asked Marie.

"You both trust each other, which for both of you is major. What's more you respect each other, look out for each other. Speaking as your brother, you and Jack go well together. You made the right choice."

Marie felt rather odd listening to this speech of Wills, for it revealed something to her that she wasn't sure she liked. Will didn't seem to sense the strain that was in her marriage at this point. In some ways, the things he said were still true, but lately, Marie had been questioning whether Jack really _did_ trust her. She was having doubts about her choice. And if Will couldn't sense that, how could she confide it to him? Perhaps things had changed between Will and she more than was immediately apparent.

Will caught Marie's troubled look. "Marie," he asked, is everything all right?"

Smiling, Marie did her best to push aside her problems. No sense in bringing them up now. "Yes. So, what else did you want to know?"

* * *

As always, read and review. The next chapter is much shorter and shouldn't be half as long of a wait.

Next chapter: A mysterious dress is discovered on an outbound ship from Port Royal. The crew is perhaps unaware that they have been joined by two stowaways, who also happen to be wanted criminals. Also, coming up in the next few chapters, new indicators of an AU universe with the appearance of new characters, and a new twist in the character and legend of the supposed goddess of the sea.


	19. Chapter 19: The Dress

Chapter 19: The Dress

Despite the recent shake-up in Port Royal's authority, business for some had to continue as usual, at least as usual as possible. And besides, it was not in the best interest of the East India Trading Company to impound every vessel that pulled into Port Royal. So once the EITC had completed the searching, they allowed many of the ships to go, their holds carrying cargo from the New World back to the Old.

One such vessel was the _Edinburgh Trader_, captained by John Belllamy, an Irishman with a rough manner and a salty mouth, but where trade was concerned, he had an almost impeccable reputation. For that reason, he was able to go about his business rather quickly.

The voyage seemed to start off normally enough, with a fine head wind and the crew in good humor. However, the morale quickly took a turn for the worse when one of the deckhands found a mysterious dress stuffed in between two barrels.

When Captain Bellamy came on deck to investigate the ruckus, he was none too pleased with what he saw if his tone was anything to go by. "Here now, what's all this?"

A mob of sailors were clustered around two of his men, who were engaging in a tug-of-war with the dress. Each seemed intent of getting a piece of the dress. Everyone was shouting at once, expressing one opinion or another, and since all the members of the crew were men (with excellent vocal chords), this naturally created quite a loud atmosphere. However, when they heard the irate shout of Bellamy, instant quiet settled over the company and all eyes turned to the Captain.

Bellamy took in the situation with one sweep of his eyes, before saying to the two crewmen who had been fighting over the wedding dress. "If ya both fancy th' dress, ye'll just have to share and wear it one after the other."

That got a laugh from the crew, except for those who seemed to be the ones who had started the disagreement.

"It's not like that, sir." said one of them, Bursar, "This ship is haunted."

Bellamy was unimpressed. "Is it now?" he asked skeptically, and then turned to the Quartermaster. "An' you?"

The Quartermaster was nervous, skittish, "With a… female presence, … amongst us here, sir. All the men, they can feel it."

The deck hand who had found the dress popped up between the two. "The ghost of a lady, widowed before her marriage, I figure it, searching for her husband, lost at sea."

"A virgin, too, likely as not." Said another sailor, who looked terrified. "And that bodes ill by all accounts."

All this naturally sounded rather outlandish, but to say the truth, the superstition of the sailors was not far from truth. For there were two sailors who hadn't taken part in the disagreements over the dress, and indeed, had kept rather to themselves ever since they had left Port Royal. The truth of the matter was that two stowaways had slipped in right under Bellamy's (and the EITC's) nose. Bellamy may not have been guilty smuggling cargo, but he was now unknowingly guilty of smuggling two wanted people.

James Norrington, who was, of course, operating under another name, made his way surreptitiously over to another member of the crew, a slight boy at first glance, but on closer inspection, proved to be none other than Elizabeth Swann.

"You couldn't have found a better placer to hide your dress?" he asked under his breath.

"I couldn't leave it with Groves." She responded in a whisper. "He would have been exposed. Besides, at least we get some entertainment." She tossed her head at the debate that was still raging.

"True." replied James, glancing at the company, "Though, it is ironic in a way."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, aside from thinking the former owner of the dress was a ghost, for a group of superstitious sailors, they're amazingly accurate at guessing the truth."

Elizabeth threw him a glance, but said nothing.

The debate continued between Captain and sailors. After agreeing on the story of the spirit that was supposedly haunting the ship, what now to do about it seemed to diverge rather drastically. "I say," said Bursar, grabbing the dress from the Quartermaster, "we throw the dress overboard and hope the spirit follows it."

The Quartermaster was horrified by the suggestion and he snatched the dress back. "No, that will just anger the spirit, sir. What we have to do is find out what the spirit wants and than simply, get it back to her."

Bursar grabbed at the dress, yelling something indistinct in support of his own opinion and another tug of war was about to ensue, when Bellamy, who had finally heard enough, shouted above the racket. "Enough! Enough! You're a pair of superstitious goats and it's got the best of you." Grabbing the dress out of their hands, he gave the most sensible explanation that anyone had yet uttered and which no one seemed to have thought of. "Now, this appears to me as no more than we have a stowaway aboard, a young woman by the look of it. I want you to search the ship until you find her. Oh and," He seemed to add as an afterthought. "She's probably naked."

The crew seemed to perk up when they heard this, and there was a flurry of activity as they began to search with a renewed sense of enthusiasm.

"This, I will say of Bellamy," said James, "He certainly knows how to motivate his men."

"That may be. However, I'll be rather hard-pressed to be motivated to find myself, naked or otherwise."

"Pretend." Said James, moving off to start "searching" for the stowaway that he already knew the location of. "Remember, we're supposed to be starved for the sight of a woman."

Elizabeth made a slight face of disgust, before joining in the search, though with decidedly less enthusiasm.

James could probably charade better than Elizabeth, but only because he was familiar with this kind of surroundings. To be quite honest, James was kind of enjoying himself. He had grown up on cargo trading ships of this kind, when his father was alive and his been captain of his own ship. His father had been more even-tempered than Bellamy, but he had known when to use a firm hand to keep his crew in check. He had always enjoyed those voyages, and he had dreamed one day of inheriting the business from him, before…

Now there was a memory to cause him to become almost sick. He still remembered his hometown being burned when it was attacked by a rogue pirate vessel; he still remembered seeing the broken bodies of his father, mother and little sister the day after the attack. That had been the day when he decided to become a member of the Royal Navy, so that he could protect others from the dangers of piracy.

He could not escape the irony of the present situation which he now found himself in: he was right now looking for a pirate. Elizabeth had made it clear that she intended to find Will, and to find Will, she would have to find Jack. And since James had insisted on coming with her, he would be involved in that same venture. He wasn't sure if he was so looking forward to seeing Jack Sparrow again. It was not as if they were bosom friends. Still, he was not blind to the debt that he owed to Jack Sparrow. After all, had Sparrow not showed up when he had, then many things would be different in his life right now. He and Elizabeth would have been married in all probability and they would have spent the rest of their lives in misery. Not to mention the fact that young William Turner would have been driven to distraction and Emma, Emma would have forever greeted him as a common and indifferent acquaintance, hiding forever the fact that her heart was breaking.

Emma. He had tried not to think of it, tried not to show it, but he was worried about her. He couldn't quite bring himself to say that she would be safe. He feared what Beckett would do to her if he had half a chance. Emma was strong, he knew that he could take care of herself, but at what cost? If anything happened to her during his absence, he was not sure that he would ever be able to forgive himself.

Where would this adventure lead him? Where would it lead Emma? He could not say. All he knew was that he had made his choice. He was on a path which he could not go back from. He only could pray that wherever it led him, it would somehow back to the woman he loved.

* * *

I am, of course, aware that this is a super short chapter, but I needed to show how James and Elizabeth were doing. I hope that everyone likes what I am doing with James. He is going to have some very different motivations when it comes to his actions in this story. But I don't want to give too much away. You will simply have to wait and see.

I also need to say that it might be awhile for the next update. I am going on vacation, so there might be a couple weeks for the next chapter. I can promise that it will be worth the wait. But for right now, read and review.

Next chapter: A show of hands for anyone who remembers Ana Maria from the first movie? Now a show of hands for anyone who wonders where the heck she was in DMC and AWE? Well, the answer is about to be revealed, as are aspects of the time to come.


	20. Chapter 20: The Time to Come

Hello there everyone, I am back from vacation and ready to cast myself back into the world of Pirates of the Caribbean. Okay, before anyone reads this chapter, I would appreciate it if you would be so good as to read this little disclaimer. First of all, this chapter is kind of a departure from the norm for me. This is really the first chapter that is completely AU. We meet Ana Maria again in this chapter, and we find out what happened to her since the first movie, as well as a little bit about her past. We also meet Tia Dalma. This chapter has none of the other characters in it, and it might be a little confusing. Just try to remember that this is mainly a hook for Pirates 3, and everything will be explained in that story. I hope that it will pique your interest and start you wondering about Pirates 3.

Please, enjoy then, this chapter. Please try not to judge it too harshly.

Chapter 20: The Time to Come

The future is an ever changing place. Time is a very fluid thing, and sometimes what we are most sure of can turn out to be the exact opposite. But, sometimes the time to come can be predicted. Fate and destiny can weave patterns in our lives and those patterns can be found, if one knows how to find them or who to ask.

In the depths of a dark and murky swamp stood a rickety, old house on stilts that held it high above the water. Crickets and frogs sounded their calls into the perpetual twilight darkness. Fog hung low over the water. In the shadows, it was almost impossible to know what was reality and what were merely illusions of the imagination.

From out of the shadows and swirling fog came the silhouette of a longboat. There was but one occupant, rowing steadily and silently towards the little hut. She was a woman, with dark skin and brown, almost black eyes. The bright light that one saw there made it clear that she was not a person to be taken lightly.

Her name was Ana Maria Pellar. She was no stranger to the Caribbean. She had spent nearly her whole life in these waters. She had been born on the island of Tortuga, the daughter of a ship's surgeon and a prostitute. She had never known her mother. Her father had told her that she was beautiful, but that she had also been cold and uncaring, hardly the maternal sort. As a result, she had only given her little baby daughter the minimum of care that she needed to survive. When her father had found out that he had a child, he had immediately offered to take the little girl in. her mother had accepted the deal rather quickly.

Her father had taken her aboard the ship that he had served on, and Ana Maria had quickly become a favorite with the crew, despite the stigma that was attached to women onboard a ship. She herself had taken to sea life as if it had been where she was meant to be all along. At the age of ten she had already learned how to haul the sail, climb the rat lines as gracefully as a monkey and also how to fight a sword and fire a pistol. But she had also been taught the skills of her father, something that was almost unheard of for a woman. She had been happy in her life. But those scented days of childhood certainly could not last.

Her father had died. A new Captain had taken command of the ship, one who did not approve of Ana Mari's presence on the ship. He had forced her to put off at the very port where she had been born. At the age of 18, she had found herself alone in the world, with no prospects and no way to protect herself. She tried to find a ship who would take her, but none would take her, either out of superstition or simple prejudice. She had always been turned away.

She didn't have many options. She knew that she would never be able to make it as a prostitute. She had always been fiery and independent, and to make simpering and flirtatious gestures to different men every night had not been part of her plan for the future. So, she had finally taken the only course that she had been able to think of. She managed to get her hands on a small boat, which she had used for fishing off the coast of Tortuga. She had managed to eke out enough of an existence to live on. But she still longed for something more, to be beyond the sight of land and surrounded by open water, like she had been when she was growing up.

She had joined the crew of the _Black Pearl_after the adventure of the Isla de Muerta, but there had still been something she felt to be lacking, something could not explain. She wanted to be something more than just a simple pirate.

It had been while they were docked in a Mediterranean port that she had encountered the woman who would change her life forever. She had been having a drink in a bar, when she had been approached by a dark-haired woman in her early 40's. Angeline Rossa was an enigma from the first time that Ana Maria had met her. She had slid into the seat opposite her and had greeted her by name. She seemed to know a great deal about Ana Maria: he background, the ship she was currently serving on, and of her feeling of restlessness. Naturally, this caused Ana Maria some discomfort and confusion. Who was this woman who knew everything about her, while she was left with nothing but a mystery?

But, she found herself intrigued. When Angeline told her the story of who she really was, Ana Maria found that she could not resist her offer of joining the crew of the _Sea Queen_, the ship of which Angeline was Captain.

The _Sea Queen_ was a ship of legend, though maybe not as legendary as the _Flying Dutchman_. That was because the _Sea Queen_ was an antithesis to the _Flying Dutchman_, its purpose rooted in the legends of the mermaids and the goddess of the sea, Calypso. As it most happens with such legends, there were some details which had been gotten wrong. Calypso was not a goddess; she was a Mermaid, a queen. She had been very powerful, very beautiful, but she had been very proud, and as changeable as the sea. She had broken her word and a terrible consequence had followed. As a result, she had been punished, exiled from her watery world, condemned to live in the world above for the rest of her prolonged life. And the _Sea Queen_had been created by the Merfolk to try and undo the damage that the _Dutchman _could do, to both their own world and the sea's very spirit.

Ana Maria had been so intrigued by this story that she had agreed to the offer of a place on her crew. As it turned out, her father's skills as a surgeon which he had passed onto her were finally given a chance to be put to good use. The _Queen_ had been in need of a surgeon. She had not told Jack or even Marie were she had been going. She had merely disappeared and she had not regretted a second of it.

But now, things had changed. The _Sea Queen_ was now without a captain. And without the abilities which were necessary, the _Sea Queen_would be defenseless and unable to accomplish the task for which it had been first created. And in light of recent happenings, that was a position they could not afford to be in for long. That was why Ana Maria had come to the shack of Tia Dalma. If any one had answers as to the events to come, than she would.

Ana Maria cam to the dock and climbed u the ladder to the entrance of the shack. She did not need to knock, for she knew that who she had been sent to see knew that she was coming. She opened the door and entered the room with more than a little caution. She had never met the voodoo witch Tia Dalma, but she had heard of her reputation. She did not want to do anything to upset her.

Tia Dalma was seated at the table in the middle of the room, which glowed with a golden light. She was hunched over the table, and seemed to studying something intently. Nonetheless, when she heard or rather perhaps sensed the entrance of Ana Maria into the shack, she immediately looked up, and smiled a weird, all-knowing smile. "Ah, Ana Maria of de _Sea Queen_, I have been expecting you."

"I was told that in all probability you would." Said Ana Maria, "I was also told that you would know my name and why I was here."

Tia Dalma rose and came around to look at Ana Maria more closely. Her eyes were black, deep, endless. If one stared into those orbs for too long, than there was a chance that one would not be able to keep from being placed into a trance. For that reason, more from any feeling of fear or discomfort, did Ana Maria studiously avoid staring directly at Tia Dalma for very long. "Yes, I do." said Tia Dalma, "Angeline is dead."

"More than just dead, she was killed, by the East India Trading Company. Their presence is starting to increase in the Caribbean, as well as the seas of the world. Her last words to me were that I should come to you. She said that you would have answers for the questions that needed to be answered."

"She spoke de truth. It is a loss to be sure, Angeline was a good captain and she accomplished her purpose well. As it is, though, de times are such dat we cannot afford to spend time grieving."

Ana Maria had to restrain herself from sighing at what she thought to be little more than a melodramatic speech. "If that is the truth, then should we perhaps get on with this? What are we supposed to do? Without the captain, the _Sea Queen _might as well be considered like any other ship. Without the ability to communicate with the Merfolk, without at least knowing the moves of our enemies beforehand, the crew will be defenseless and the _Queen _open to attack from multiple quarters."

Tia Dalma looked up sharply. "Do not dictate to me what de situation is, Ana Maria Pellar. Long have I watched de events of t'ings you were not born to see, long have I known what de _Sea Queen_and her captain together could do. I was dere when it was made, and I will be dere when it ends."

Ana Maria bit back the sharp retort that was forming on her tongue. She saw a slightly dangerous look in Tia Dalma's eyes. Despite herself, she knew that it would be foolish to cross Tia Dalma's temper. She also knew, even if she would not admit it, that she could not know what any captain of the _Sea Queen_ went through. She had not been chosen.

"You know that the _Queen _chooses her own captain. We cannot afford to wait. Angeline knew this. Her last words to me were that I should come to see you. She said that you could look into the time to come and see who it was that would be the next captain."

Tia Dalma nodded, and moved back to the table where she had been sitting when Ana Maria had first come in. "I can see what is coming." She confirmed, as she gestured for Ana Maria to come closer. Ana Maria did and she saw that the surface of the table was covered with a dozen or so crab claws, scattered out in different patterns that made no sense whatsoever to her.

"You can't seriously read the future with nothing more than a few claws." She inquired skeptically.

Tia Dalma smiled knowingly and with great amusement. "You do need to believe it, Ana Maria. But what I tell you now, you must do widout fail. Eveyt'ing depends on it."

Ana Maria sighed, suddenly wanting very much for this interview to be over. She may have been more willing to concede that such things as magic and the supernatural were at work in the world, but she still wasn't entirely comfortable in dealing with it directly. "Fine, just tell me what you have to say and let's get this over with."

Tia Dalma, still smiling with amusement, swept her hands over the crab claws. "De claws demselves do not say what the future is, it is the way that they fall. Dis pattern which dey have fallen has been de same every time for days on end. Now, look here." She pointed to a claw which looked as though it had been split right down the middle. "Dat is Angeline, her life cut short before it's time. Her successor is not so far behind, but here is where t'ings become complicated."

Tia Dalma indicated another claw, this one looking as if there were two which had grown out of this same appendage. "Here, dis tells me that the gifts which are normally in one will be split in two."

Ana Maria looked at the woman before her blankly. "What does that mean?"

"It means dat dere will be two, not one. From what I have been able to see, there will be one who will have the power of sensing the movement of future events, she will be the one who becomes de next captain. But there will be another who can speak the language of the people who live below the surface of the sea."

"Is that even possible?" asked Ana Maria in slight astonishment.

"It happens, but only on de rarest of occasions. When it does occur, it means dat a great change is coming. De news you bring me confirms dis."

"So, who are they? How do we find them?"

"One will come here herself, in just a few hours. But she is not yet ready. De other will prove to be a special case. From what I have seen, she is in very great danger. De _Sea Queen_ must go and get her."

"Where is she? How will I know her? I can't just walk up to the first person I see when I come ashore."

"Tell her when you find her dat you were part of the crew who rescued her sister last year."

Ana Maria stared at Tia Dalma in shock. "The sister of… Are you telling me that Elizabeth Swann has a sister?"

"Yes, she does. She is in Port Royal."

"Port Royal is at the center of the Company's power." Objected Ana Maria, "You can't possibly expect the _Queen_ to go there."

"But if you do not, everyt'ing dat has been worked for and fought for will be for not'ing. Dis has to be done, Ana Maria, for all of us."

As Tia Dalma was speaking, Ana Maria thought she saw a flash of something in her black eyes: sadness, a sadness that ran so deep that she couldn't possibly begin to understand what had caused it. For a brief second, Ana Maria thought that Tia Dalma looked far older than she at first appeared to be, and somehow, strangely not human. It only lasted for a moment, and for a time she wondered if she had even seen the change.

"Very well, I will go. But what of the other person? Who is she?"

"You already know her very well. She, along with her twin brother, have both had a touch of destiny about them for a very long time."

Ana Maria knew of only one person whom she had known in the past who had a twin brother like the one which Tia Dalma described. "Do you mean that Marie Turner is going to be the next Captain of the _Sea Queen_?"

Tia Dalma simply nodded. "But as I say, she is not yet ready for de task. Soon, an event will occur which will bring her to her true destiny. For now, you must go to Port Royal and retrieve Emma Norrington. Be back by de next full moon. We cannot afford to wait for very much longer. When you see Emma, dis is what you must tell her."

Less than twenty minutes later, Ana Maria had completed the task which had been laid upon her by the last captain of the _Sea Queen_, only now, she had a few more tasks to complete. She was not sure how much she understood of what had passed with Tia Dalma, and she did not know if she cared to understand fully. She did feel convinced, though, that Tia Dalma knew what she was talking about. If Ana Maria did not follow her directions to the letter, she felt that the consequences would be terrible.

It is a very few who can accurately see the patterns which are weaved in the tapestry of time. For many, the time to come would be filled with trial and change. But if this meeting between a pirate woman and a voodoo priestess was anything to go by, the fate and destiny of the time to come could only point to one thing: a time of reckoning was close at hand, and soon, nothing would ever be the same.

* * *

Again, I do hope that this chapter was interesting. I'm not sure if it's the best chapter I have ever written, but I don't think that I have ever written a chapter like this. So, I look forward to reading your reviews. Please, though, if you hated it, just keep quiet. I'll get the point.

Also, a note on Tia Dalma. I am trying to go a different way with her character and the end result will be somewhat different than in the movie. I think that this is really where the writers goofed up. They just tried to do to much and I found the whole concept of a goddess of the sea a little hard to swallow. I also found it difficult to think that a pirate court with just nine pieces of junk (to quote Pintel) could actually bind a goddess in human form. Come on, a goddess? Get real. I also found that though they smashed in every major sea legend and pirte cliche, the myth of Mermaids was never once mentioned. So this is my version of Tia Dalma. You can either take it or leave it. I hope, however, that you are intrigued enough to keep on reading.

Next chapter: Marie, Will, Jack and the rest visit the mysterious Tia Dalma for answers to their own questions. We also get a little flash of the black boots of a familiar dead pirate captain. And we get the to hear Jack utter the immortal line, "dirt, this is a jar of dirt."


	21. Chapter 21: Tia Dalma

Chapter 21: Tia Dalma

The _Black Pearl_rode at anchor in the shallows. It had reached its intended destination, the River Panata, with its wide mouth leafing into a hazy gloominess that was not at all welcoming.

Nonetheless, that was where Jack intended to go. Leaving only a scant number aboard the _Pearl_, the two lifeboats were lowered and they set off. Jack had not said what had brought him to this little known corner of the Caribbean. Marie knew, however, that he would not have come here unless here unless he had a very good reason. The Caribbean was Jack's territory; he knew it like the back of his hand. She could not doubt that he had been here before.

Jack was in the boat that had gone into the river first and even from her viewpoint in the second boat saw clearly that he was on edge, almost as much as that night when he found out that his time was up. He kept glancing all around him with nervous eyes, never taking his gaze off the forest that gradually closed in around the visitors, the trees becoming so thickly clustered that the sky was eventually blocked out and only snatches of sunlight gleamed through the minute cracks between the branches. But despite the overhanging trees, the air around them was illuminated by a very different kind of light, a light that seemed to come from the trees, from the water, from everywhere.

The air itself began to grow thick and steamy, trees grew even more weirdly shaped the further into the strange green tunnel they went and trailing vines dipped into the water. Dragonflies hummed in the still air and as a low fog began to rise from the water, Marie began to realize that they had been passed from river into swamp.

For the first half hour of their journey into the swamp, nothing was said. The silence was as heavy as the air, and it seemed, at first, a bad omen to speak. However, Will, when an opportunity like this came along to understand Jack's motives, could not keep silent for very long.

"Why is Jack afraid of the open ocean?" Apparently, he had caught onto Jack's odd behavior rather quickly. Jack had insisted on skirting the shorter path by open water (which is the one he would have taken before), and opted for a more circuitous route that had kept them to the shallows and the reefs. Not once, had he attempted to head out to the sea that he loved so much.

"Well," began Gibbs, "if ya believe such things, there's a beast does the bidding of Davy Jones, with fearsome tentacles that can suction your face clean off." He paused, as if for dramatic effect, "The kracken."

Pintel and Ragetti, who were rowing he boat, recoiled, frightened by what they were hearing. Even Marty, riding up front, craned his neck around to listen better. No one was better at spinning these kinds of yarns better than Gibbs, but even he himself looked slightly disturbed by what he was passing on.

"They say the smell of its breath is…" Gibbs shuddered, unable to find anything adequate in the human language that would come close to the nightmare of the kracken. "Imagine the last thing you know on God's green earth is the roar of the kracken, and the reeking order of a thousand rotting corpses." Gibbs, having traveled a little too far down the path of horror for his liking, tried to collect himself and put on a brave face, with limited success. "If ya believe such things." However, judging by his former reaction, Marie thought it a safe bet to say that Gibbs most certainly did believe in the legend of kracken.

She herself was not immune to such stories. Right now, in this weird half-gloom, half-light, with all that she knew of Jack's predicament, it was easy for the mind to wander down paths that otherwise, she would have stayed far away from.

Will must have noticed the worried half glances that she cast into the water, for he said, "Do you believe in this creature?" she could tell if he was skeptical or not.

She turned to look at him. "This past year, Will, I have seen things that I never dreamed could be real, experienced things that I had only heard of. I do believe that the prospect of a huge creature with tentacles that prowls the ocean sucking down ships into the depths isn't entirely out of the realm of possibility."

Will just stared at his sister. For some reason, that answer mildly disturbed him. It was just another occurrence in a long line of such that he had noticed about Marie since they had been reunited. He was not sure how to describe it. He still sensed that as brother and sister, their deep love was still there, but sometimes, the ones that you love most are the ones that you know least of. For Marie and Will, having been separated for a year's time, he was beginning to feel that was indeed starting to become true and that they had been traveling down separate paths for quite some time.

Turning back to Gibbs, he asked him. "And the key will spare him that?" He wasn't entirely sure that Gibbs would know anything, but he had to have some idea as to why Jack so desperately needed the key.

"Ah, that's exactly the question that Jack wants answered, bad enough even to visit _her_."

Will looked at Gibbs with raised eyebrows, as he observed Gibbs' increasingly disturbed look. "Her?" he asked, skeptically.

Gibbs nodded grimly, "Aye."

Will looked at Marie for clarification. "Tia Dalma." Was all that Marie said.

"Who?" asked Will, confused by the strange name.

"A voodoo priestess that Jack has known from… somewhere. It's a mystery to me how he's managed to get in contact with half the people he knows. Apparently, she has powers that Jack will find useful in his current situation."

"Id he already knows her, why does he seem so nervous?"

"Let's just say that Tia Dalma, from what I've heard is unpredictable. Jack once told me that she can see into a person's soul before they're exchanged one word. If she doesn't like you, there is a good chance that she will be put a curse on you. I've not met her, but my advice is be at your most charming."

"I'll keep that in mind." Replied Will, though he to admit, he wasn't at all sure now what to expect.

* * *

Fireflies glinted and flashed in the gloom of the swamp. Night had fallen and Marie could hardly say if they were at all closer to their destination. The only thing that she was sure of was that Jack was growing more and more uneasy. He was clutching the head rope, keeping a wary eye on all that was going on around him. Marie didn't blame him. As she had gone through the swamp, she had noticed that the boats were being watched from the shadows onshore. Fleeting shadows of human shapes had flashed before her eyes, but when she tuned her head to get a better look, there was nothing there. Needless to say, she was quite relieved when they seemed to be coming close to the end of their journey.

They turned a bend in the river and what Marie saw truly surprised her. It was a house, or perhaps the better word for it would have been shack. It rested on four poles that kept it well above the level of the water. What was strangest of all was that the house itself seemed to glow with an inner light all its own.

From the trees, the people who she was sure that she had seen following their progress for the course of the day were now staring at them, standing so still that Marie half-wondered at first if they weren't actually statues.

The two longboats pulled up to a small, surprisingly sturdy dock, from which a ladder extended upward towards the house. Jack climbed up out of the boat and onto the dock. Turning, he tried to instill a measure of confidence into the nervous company. "No worries, mates. Tia Dalma and I go way back. Thick as thieves, nigh inseparable we are," His charade faltered when he caught sight of Marie, who was looking at him with raised eyebrows. From there, it went pretty much downhill, until Jack looked no surer of this course than did anyone else in the party. "Were. Have been. Before."

"I'll watch your back." Said Gibbs.

"It's me front I'm worried about." muttered Jack, before starting up the ladder.

Marie, who had no intention of being left behind, turned to Gibbs, "Mind the boat."

"Mind the boat." Gibbs said to Will.

"Mind the boat." Said Will to Pintel.

"Mind the boat." Pintel said too Ragetti.

"Mind the boat." Ragetti said to Marty.

"Mind the boat." Marty said to the silent Cotton.

"Awk, mind the boat." Squawked Cotton's parrot before it flew away, leaving Cotton behind to mind the boats.

* * *

Jack peaked into the window of the shack, before hesitantly pushing open the door, which opened with a creaking groan. There, seated by a table covered in all manner of things that defied description was a woman unlike any Marie had ever seen. She had dark honey-colored skin, ornamented by a gold dress and black hair that hung in dreadlocks. But what Marie really noticed were her eyes, which looked distinctly like dark whirlpools, endless, ever spinning and able to see everything, even the secrets that were supposedly hidden.

When she heard the door opening, her head came up slowly and lips curled back in a delighted smile. "Jack Sparrow."

"Tia Dalma." Said Jack, in his usual enthusiastic manner, though he stopped in his tracks when he saw the jar full of eyeballs staring back at him.

As Marie came into the room, she couldn't help but think that it wasn't the only strange thing in the room. Indeed, looking around her, she saw all manner of weird things, most of which she couldn't determine the use of. She wasn't sure that she would have wanted to know what their uses were if given the opportunity.

Tia Dalma came toward Jack in a decidedly flirtatious manner. "I a'ways knew de wind would come and blow ya back ta me one day."

Marie did her best not to look jealous, but no sooner had Tia Dalma leaned in to caress Jack's face, when she saw Marie. Her eyes grew wide, though no necessarily with surprise, more like comprehension. "Ah, but I see dat you will not be so easy to have dis time, Jack Sparrow. Your wild heart has at last been tamed. A no easy task has it been, eh, Marie Sparrow.?"

Marie's eyes widened in definite surprise. "How do you know my name?"

"I know many t'ings Marie Sparrow." Was the woman's cryptic response, though she was still smiling in an oddly charming way. "Be happy, Lady Sparrow. You have achieved what no other woman would have been able, too."

That seemed to end the conversation between the, though Marie was completely lost by this time. Had Tia Dalma just paid her a complement or something else entirely?

Tia Dalma didn't seem to notice her confusion. Her eye had landed on Will, who had just entered the room, and was looking about him as if he couldn't believe his eyes, much like Marie had done a few seconds before.

His attention was soon caught by Tia Dalma's heavily accented voice. "You, you have a touch of destiny about you, William Turner."

Will looked at Tia Dalma in confusion. "You know me?"

Tia Dalma leaned into Will seductively. "Ya want ta know me?"

Jack suddenly popped up between the two for them. "There'll be no knowing here. We came for help and we're not leaving without it." Seemingly jealous that he was no longer the center of attention, he put an arm around Tia Dalma's shoulders and, as he led her away, he told her in a soft voice, "I thought I knew you."

Will blinked, as if he had just come out of a semi-trance. He glanced at Marie, who could only shrug. She had no more idea as to what was going on than he did.

Tia Dalma continued, unmindful of the exchange between the twins. "Not so well as I had hoped. Come."

"Come." Echoed Jack, pulling out the chair by the table (the only chair, Marie couldn't help but notice), and gestured for Will to take it.

However uncertainly Will slid into the chair, Tia Dalma seemed quite ready to do anything to make him feel at home. "What service may I do you?" she said, in a seductive voice as she ran her fingers along Will's chin. She suddenly snapped her eyes up to Jack, and said in decidedly different tone. "You know I demand payment."

"I brought payment." Jack responded, before whistling to Gibbs, who handed him the tarp-covered cage. Jack withdrew the cover with a flourish, revealing Jack the Undead Monkey, who looked uncharacteristically nervous by his new surroundings. "Look." Said Jack, triumphantly as he took out his pistol, aimed it into the cage and pulled the trigger. There was a loud bang and the monkey shrieked with fear. "An undead monkey." Jack placed the cage on the table between him and Tia Dalma, looking quite pleased with himself. "Top that."

Tia Dalma regarded the monkey closely for a moment, before slowly unlocking the door and pushing it open. The monkey immediately darted from captivity to a backroom in the shack.

"No." cried Gibbs softly when this happened. "You've no idea how long it took us to catch that."

Ignoring Gibbs' apparent disappointment, Tia Dalma closed the door and removed the cage from the table. "De payment is fair."

Marie's eyebrows rose. She was the first to admit that she was glad to be rid of the little pestering monster, but she also had to admit that she had no idea whatsoever what Tia Dalma could do with it. But considering the hundreds of objects in the room she couldn't even identify, she thought it better not to ask.

Will withdrew the cloth picture that Jack had given him from his coat and put it on the table. "We're looking for this, and what it goes to."

When Tia Dalma saw the picture, her reaction showed a hint of surprise, but Marie could clearly see by her face that she recognized it. She turned to Jack, "De compass ya barter from me; it cannot lead you to dis?"

Jack, who had been studying a hat that had been lying in and around Tia Dalma's mass collection of miscellanea, looked up. "Maybe." He said, trying to sound cryptic and failing rather miserably. "Why?"

Tia Dalma sat back down and smiled in an all-knowing way. She saw right through Jack's bluff. "Ah, I hear you. Jack Sparrow does not know what he wants, or do you know, but are loath to claim it as your own?"

Jack didn't seem to have any good answer to this question, and after a moment, Tia Dalma continued. "Your key go to a chest and it is what lay inside de chest you seek, don't it?"

Marie had already determined that the key went to some sort of chest, a chest that Jack was apparently desperate to find. But, she had not yet heard what exactly was supposed to be in the chest that was so important.

"What is inside?" There was an eager glint in Gibbs' eyes when he spoke.

"Gold?" cried Pintel, greedily, "Jewels? Unclaimed properties of a valuable nature?"

Ragetti, looking at a jar of glass eyeballs in a rather wistful manner, spoke, "Nothing bad, I hope." He seemed considerably less than enthusiastic by the prospect of the contents of the chest than were his companions. He was no doubt remembering the last time he had happened upon a supernatural treasure.

Instead of answering the question directly, Tia Dalma began talking of the legend of Davy Jones. "Ya know of Davy Jones, yes? A man of de sea, a great sailor, until, 'e run afoul of dat which vex all men."

"What vexes all men?" asked Will, who was intrigued, despite himself.

"What indeed?" asked Tia Dalma smiling seductively at Will. She clearly knew the answer, but she wasn't telling.

"The sea?" Gibbs finally ventured (uncertainly) as a guess.

"Sums?" tried Pintel.

"Th' dichotomy of good and evil?" said Ragetti, but all he got for his effort was a startled look of blankness from Pintel and Gibbs.

"A woman." said Jack, finally growing tired of the game."

"I assumed that would have been obvious." Said Marie.

"A woman." repeated Tia Dalma, still all smiled, "'E fell in love."

"No, no, no." denied Gibbs, "I 'eard it was the sea 'e fell in love with."

Tia Dalma appeared unconcerned with this minor detail. "Same story, different versions and all are true. You see, it was a woman as changing and harsh and untamable as de sea. 'Im never stop loving her. But de pain it cause 'im was too much to live wid, but not enough to cause him to die."

"What exactly did he put into the chest?" asked Will, hoping to get a straight answer from Tia Dalma for once.

He got one, but it wasn't the straight answer he had been expecting. "Him heart."

"Lit'rally or figuratively?" asked Ragetti, completely taken in by the story.

"He coul'n't li'rally put 'is 'eart in a chest." Admonished Pintel, but then he turned to Tia Dalma, suddenly uncertain. "Could 'e?"

It was not wort' feeling what small, fleeting joy life brings. An' so, him carve out home heart; lock it away in a chest and 'ide de chest from de world." she nodded to the picture. "De key, 'e keep it with him at all times."

Will suddenly realized something. Standing up, he cast an accusing glare at Jack. "You knew this."

"I did not." Said Jack, slippery as always, "I didn't know where the key was, but now we do. So, all that's left is to climb aboard the _Dutchman_, grab the key, you can go back to Port Royal and save your bonny lass." As if that took care of the whole matter, Jack started to leave this shack.

"Let me see your hand." Came Tia Dalma's stern voice which stopped Jack from making a quick exit as he would have wished.

Jack turned back rather nervously and extended his left hand, hopefully. But Tia Dalma didn't buy it. Sighing resignedly, Jack put out his right hand and she began unwrapping the cloth from his hand. When the cloth fell away from his hand, it revealed the ugly black spot that clearly marked Jack as a wanted man.

"Black Spot!" cried Gibbs when he saw it. Hurriedly, he brushed himself off three times, turned around once and spat on the ground.

Pintel and Ragetti, as usual, were a little slower on the uptake than Gibbs, and they took a few seconds longer to comprehend what the Black Spot meant. But when it finally got through their thick heads, they both moaned simultaneously, "Black Spot!" before copying Gibbs' bizarre ritual.

Marie rolled her eyes in despair when she saw this. "Men." She muttered.

"My eyesight's just as good as ever, just so you know." Replied Jack, gaily, as though trying to put the men at ease.

Tia Dalma, seeing that Jack would need more than a simple piece of advice had disappeared into the back of the shack, muttering to herself, "I have just de t'ing, now where did I put it…" This was followed by loud clattering sounds, as if things were being tossed, thrown and rummaged about.

Gibbs, Pintel and Ragetti all craned their necks, trying to get a glimpse of what she was doing. Even Marie's natural curiosity got the better of her, and she too peeked into the back room where Tia Dalma had gone.

"Ah, my little beauty, where are you?"

All that Marie could see was the monkey, who was looking quite forlorn, sitting in front of what looked like two black boots. He put a paw on one of them and squeaked pitifully. It was the most subdued that Marie had ever seen the little creature and she almost felt sorry for him.

"Such a long time, in such a mess."

Something about the boots jogged Marie's memory, glancing back at the hat that Jack had been examining a few minutes earlier. The hat and the boots together combined spoke urgently to Marie's mind, telling her that she should be remembering something important, but before she could think further on it, Tia Dalma suddenly appeared from the back of the shack. She was carrying a jar that was filled with, unless Marie's eyes deceived her, dirt.

"Davy Jones cannot make port, cannot step on land but once every ten years." explained Tia Dalma, "Land is where you are safe, Jack Sparrow, and so you will carry land wid you."

Jack took the jar of dirt from Tia Dalma cautiously, as if he were afraid that if would blow up in his face. But when he actually had it in his hands, his reaction was much the same as Marie's had been: blank surprise. "Dirt, this is a jar of dirt."

"Yes." Said Tia Dalma, as if she couldn't understand what the problem was.

"Is the jar of dirt going to help?"

Tia Dalma leaned forward. "If ya don't want it, give it back."

Jack clutched the jar lighter to him." No." he may not have known what purpose it could serve, but if Tia Dalma said it did, he wasn't about to part with it.

Tia Dalma smiled approvingly. "Den it helps."

Jack, after hearing this, hugged the jar even tighter, throwing a glance at Gibbs and the others, as if he actually suspected that they would try and steal the jar from him. Marie found herself rolling her eyes yet again. "It's a jar of dirt, Jack." She said, "Not a casket of jewels."

"Still you can never be too sure of people's motives."

"That's rich coming from you." Marie shot back.

Will ignored Jack and Marie's little altercation. He had more important things to find out. "It seems," he said to Tia Dalma, "we have a need to find the _Flying Dutchman._"

Tia Dalma acknowledged this with a frank nod. Seating herself once more, she scooped up the crab claws that were scattered around the table. She rolled them in her hands like dice, appearing to fall into a semi-trance. "A touch," she said, slowly and unearthly, "of destiny!" before letting fly the claws. Landing on the table, they formed a map of where they were supposed to find the elusive _Flying Dutchman_.

* * *

I hope that everyone liked this chapter. I do not know when I will have the chance to update again. I am moving away to college over this next weekend, so things will be understandably a little crazy. But fear not, I still plan on continuing these stories. And the next update will be as soon as I can make it. Please be patient with me as I go through this change.

Next chapter: We advance into the horror part of this story as Will and Marie are tricked to the _Dutchman_and Jack comes face to face with an old enemy, that will test everything he holds dear and have the potential to put the woman he loves in the worst danger of all.


	22. Chapter 22:The Flying Dutchman

Chapter 22: The Flying Dutchman

Rain poured down from the sky in great sheets and torrents. Lightening clashed dully in the dark sky, doing little to illuminate the earth below. The growling of distant thunder followed each flash of lightening, creating a chilly backdrop to icy whispers of the rain.

On the _Pearl_'s main deck, Marie and Will stood side by side, peering into the rain-tossed night at a wrecked ship that looked to have run aground on the rocks, that mirrored the crab claws which Tia Dalma had thrown.

Will looked first at Marie, before turning his head to look at Jack. "That's the _Flying Dutchman_?" he asked, making no attempt to his skepticism.

Marie was beginning to have doubts about this venture already. From what she could make out, the vessel looked no bigger than the standard trading ship that she had helped to take with Jack and his crew over the past year. It looked like it had been broken in half as easily as if the hull had been made out of matchsticks. In short, this didn't look like a ship that seemed worthy of the title, the ruler of the ocean depths. It simply didn't seem like the ship that could have been at the root of all the stories that she had heard of the _Flying Dutchman_.

She suspected this and it was clear that Will had picked up on it, too. And Jack didn't seem to have any good answer to their doubts. "She doesn't look like much." Said Will, stating the obvious as he looked back at the wreck,

"Neither do you." Jack replied, "Do not underestimate her."

A moment of silence, then Jack elbowed Gibbs in the ribs (which Marie noticed). Gibbs, realizing he was supposed to play along, sputtered quickly, "Must 'ave run afoul of the reef."

Will, though he suspected something was afoot, yet had gone too far to back out now. He had to find out what was on that ship, he had to absolutely sure that the ship was not the _Flying Dutchman_, that there was nothing there that didn't have a chance of saving Elizabeth. And, of course he had a plan. Will always had a plan.

"I row over, search the ship until I find your bloody key." He said, sounding rather annoyed.

"And if there are crewmen?" Jack inquired.

Will's reply was earnest and deadly. "I cut down anyone in my path." Will walked away.

Jack seemed to consider the plan before saying, "I like it, simple, easy to remember."

Marie wasn't so sure it would be that simple.

Will couldn't be talked out of this and Jack wasn't telling the whole truth; it was left up to her, again to be the smart one in this little threesome. But, being the smart one in this instance meant having to make a choice between her brother or her husband. And unless her heart deceived her, she was starting to lean in the direction of the former.

Will was about to leave the ship, and Jack couldn't be more happy that he was leaving. His plan was going exactly as he hoped it would. With any luck, he would be able to weasel out of this and be able to go on his merry way within a matter of hours.

As Will began climbing down into the boat that Ragetti was holding for him, Jack felt confidant enough to call down to him, "Oi, if you do happen to get captured, just say Jack Sparrow sent you to settle 'is debt. Might save your life."

Before Will could say anything in reply, Jack suddenly heard Marie's voice from behind him. "Well, wait." Jack turned around, only to see Marie approaching, and he immediately became worried: she was buckling on a second sword. Jack had gotten to know her fighting style and she only used two swords when she knew she was going to be up against difficult odds. However, none of this was as surprising as what he heard her say next. "I'm coming with you."

Elbowing Jack aside without even a second glance, she swung over the railing and started climbing into the boat. Jack had not been expecting this. In fact, he had completely forgotten to factor Marie into the equation. He had been so busy planning to use Will as bait that he had more or less forgotten that Marie's intense loyalty to her brother could potentially put her in harm's way.

Of course, he tried to stop her, and of course, he was doomed to failure.

"Marie, are you sure that's such…"

Marie's eyes came up and speared him. "Do you want to argue with me, Jack?"

Her eyes were more sapphire green than ocean blue, and if Jack was watching her right, they were turning more green by the moment. He knew that color. It meant that Marie's temper was burning dangerously hot. And when she was in that mood, it would be impossible to reason with her without getting his head bitten off. "I… no."

"Good." She said, glaring at Jack before disappearing over the side.

Jack tried to quell the sudden feeling of dread that he felt in the pit of his stomach. Marie's ill-timed show of loyalty could very well put her in harm's way. Why did that have to be the one thing that she had in common with her twin? Who couldn't she display a little caution every once in awhile instead of rushing head long into each and every dangerous situation that presented itself? However, she wouldn't have needed to be loyal if he hadn't given her the opportunity. This had been his idea, after all. So, could he really absolve himself fro blame as he had once been so adept at doing? He flinched inwardly. He hated it when his conscience bothered him like this. Life was so much easier when he wasn't grappling with questions of morality.

"Douse the lamps." He ordered Gibbs quietly.

Despite the face that Marie had caused him to think more of the consequences of his actions. But some traces of the old Jack Sparrow still remained, the pirate who was willing to cheat, steal, even betray to ensure he saved his skin. Unfortunately, having Marie in his life also made him aware that there was another person in his life who he needed to watch out for. Now, he felt those two sides of him clashing. Why did he get the feeling that either way, it wouldn't be good for him?

* * *

As Will rowed the longboat over the storm-tossed ocean waves, Marie chanced a look back. Her heart sank when she saw the bright lanterns that were outlining the _Black Pearl_ winking out one by one until the _Pearl_'s dark hull had disappeared against the blackness of night. Marie and Will might as well have been one a longboat by themselves at sea.

"I was afraid something like this would happen." She heard herself muttering.

"Why should Jack put you in danger, even if he might not have any qualms about betraying me?"

"Because that's his way."

"But, Marie, he's your husband."

Marie looked at Will, "That doesn't mean that I always trust him."

Will looked at his sister in surprise. She was serious. He had never thought that there would be a time when he wouldn't understand his sister; but he never though that she would be married to a pirate, either. He had never seen her acting like this; he was not used to seeing her be unsure about anything. But ever since they had been reunited, he had observed that there were something's that she was really indeed unsure about. And one those things seemed to be her marriage.

It was more than the fact that she was simply unhappy: she and Jack didn't trust each other. Will had not said anything, partly because he had come to believe that one of the strongest foundations for any kind of love was trust. He and Elizabeth trusted each other. He didn't understand how Marie and Jack could still be married when they didn't trust each other.

But that wasn't all that Marie didn't understand. He didn't understand the subtle complexities of Jack and Marie's marriage. He couldn't understand the dynamic of rival and lover, often at the same time. The affection that he and Elizabeth shared was no less strong, but it was of an entirely different kind. It was a kind that Marie could no better understand than Will could understand her.

In a single year, Marie and Will had created their own separate, but secret gardens. And there was not much that one could do to try and get past those secrets. And neither one of them really wanted to try. They were farther apart than they ever had been, and it wasn't a feeling that they liked.

* * *

Whatever Marie and Will had been expecting when they reached the ship, it certainly wasn't they encountered when they got there.

The ship had been more than just broken in half; it had been almost completely destroyed. The sails were torn and shredded, hanging in tattered rags from the ropes and rigging. The masts themselves were ruined and splintered beyond repair. Most disturbing of all, were the number of dead bodies that lay strewn about the deck and tangled in the rigging. Some of those dead bodies appeared to be twisted in unnatural angles with expressions of terror forever stamped on their features.

"This isn't a ship." Said Marie, as she and Will made their way cautiously over the deck, "It's a nightmare."

As first glance, there didn't seem to be any kind of life on the ship. But when the two twins heard the muttering coming from the bow, that assessment proved to be wrong. Following the sound of the muttering, they found a sailor, who was pulling on a rope. His hands were bloodied, suggesting that he had been engaged in the pointless activity for quite some time. He was babbling nearly incoherently, utterly terrified. "Bring up the round turn, captain's orders."

"Sailor." Said Will, trying to capture the man's attentions, "Sailor!"

But the sailor didn't seem t have heard Will's voice, or even to be aware of their presence. "Hoisting the jib. Captain's orders."

"It's no use," Will tried again, "You've run aground."

The sailor at last turned to them, the look of terror in his eyes enough to send chills down Marie's spine. "No. beneath us. Foul breath."

A sudden splash asked Marie to look behind her. "Will." She said, drawing his attention to where she was looking.

Leaving the half-crazed sailor in his continued ramblings, they approached the man who had just crashed from the rigging onto the mangled deck. He landed half in, half out of the water. He tried crawling a few pathetic steps, but in the end could only collapse and lie still.

Will and Marie rushed forward to offer what little hello they could. "Hey!" Will shouted, hoping to get some short of response.

They turned the man over, and saw the repulsing sight of a man, whose entire face had been suctioned clean of eyes, nose, and mouth, leaving only a blankness that was utterly terrifying. Marie jumped back, uttering a terrified shriek. Will also backed away, gasping with horror.

Marie suddenly remembered the story that Gibbs had told them about the kracken. The foul breath, the tentacles that could drag an entire ship to the depths and suction off a man's face; and she realized the truth.

"This ship didn't hit a reef." She whispered, "It was attacked."

She and Will exchanged glances as an even more terrible truth dawned on them. "This is the _Flying Dutchman_." Said Will, confirming what they had both already guessed.

"It's a trap and we're the bait."

Almost the exact same moment that they realized what was truly happening; it seemed as if the sea itself began to shudder in an unearthly manner. But before either of them could guess what it was, there was the sound of a great rushing tide of water. Turning, they saw an enormous ship rearing up from below the water. Will and Marie hurried to the sides to get a better look.

If Marie had though the wrecked ship resembled a nightmare, this ship more than added to the image. Its bow resembled the mouth of a shark, filed with sharp, jagged teeth, ready to feast on any defenseless prey it could find. The ship was large, but sleek and deadly. Water gushed from multiple cannon ports and its thick hull looked well able to defend the interior. There could be no mistaking this ship. This was truly the legendary ship of Davy Jones, the ghostly _Flying Dutchman_.

Marie and Will were momentarily so absorbed in the awful sight before them; they didn't notice that they had company.

"Down on your marrow bones and pray.'

The harsh grating voice came from behind them. They turned and when she saw the thing that had uttered those words, Marie, for the first time in her life, screamed with terror.

The thing which had spoken may have walked upright like a man, but there any resemblance came to an end. It was mutated beyond any recognizable human shape by the sea creatures and plants that were sprouting and growing all over him. An image of Marie's father flashed through her mind. But he had still shown some signs of humanity. She had felt sympathy for him. These people (in the loosest sense of the word, of course) only inspired fear and revulsion. Marie saw at least ten of the, swarming around in the darkness, and each seemed to possess something that made him look more grotesque than the last. One had the head of a hammerhead shark, another appeared to be made entirely made entirely of coral, and still another looked as if he had crab claws growing out of his back. This one now challenging them now had sea shells for hair and a face that defied all description.

While the other mutants were seizing the already half-mind sailors in grips of iron, Will and Marie would prove to be more difficult prey to take down. When the mutant who had spoken to them, lunged at Will, wielding two nasty looking heavy chains, Will grabbed onto the rigging, using it to propel himself up and over his enemy, so that he landed right behind him. His sword was out, flashing before the mutant even turned to face his onslaught.

Marie, despite her fear (and indeed, one's sanity could be called into question if one wasn't at least a little bit frightened), rallied herself and drew one of her swords, ready to fight.

But battling the nightmarish creatures would prove to be easier said then done. Like a certain other undead enemy they had encountered in the past, these mutant fish creatures didn't seem too able to be killed. It was not long before Marie realized that this was a fight that she and Will couldn't win. She and Will simply weren't strong enough h to overcome these enemies. They had to retreat.

Battling her way to the side, she turned to look for Will and stopped dead when she saw him. He was surrounded by at least five of the mutant creatures, all of them menacing him with swords. But Will, with his usual ingenuity had plunged his sword into a barrel of oil, smashed the lantern that they brought with them and the sword was now alight and flaming.

"Back!" shouted Will, returning the threats of his enemies "Get back!"

On the mutants came too close, and Will slashed at his stomach. Immediately, raw fish, steam, and seawater gushed from the gaping wound and the mutant screamed in agony, before collapsing writhing to the deck. Marie blanched as the putrid smell of burned raw fish stung her nostrils. She could not think that this nightmarish scene could become any worse.

She was wrong.

In the few seconds that Will's attention was distracted, one of the sea creatures appeared right behind Will. When Will turned back, a heavy chain struck him across the face and he collapsed in a heap.

"Will!" cried Marie, starting to go forward to try and help him, but when the fish creatures turned and began slouching towards her, she knew that it was a fool's errand. There was nothing that she could do for Will now. Besides, her desire to get out of this place was so great that she really didn't feel her normal self.

As the creatures came towards her, she turned, climbed onto the railing and dove into the cold embrace of the sea.

* * *

Can you say cliffhanger? I know, I am really mean, but don't worry, the next installment should be up soon. I have sort of become settled into my new college life, and so far I have had time to continue writing, which makes me really happy. In the meantime, please review. They make my day.

Next chapter: Davy Jones makes his first ghostly appearance. Jack finds himself in the most delicate position of his life, as he tries to save Will, while keeping his own skin safe. But what happens when Jones finds out about the existence of Marie?


	23. Chapter 23: Davy Jones

Just so everyone, this chapter captures Marie and Jack at their lowest point. But don't worry, everything gets better from here on out. Until Jack dies, of course, but that is a long way off. For now, just remember that things get better.

Chapter 23: Davy Jones

Aboard the _Black Pearl_, Jack hadn't stopped pacing since Marie had gone with Will to the wrecked vessel. He was worried, and with good reason. Only a few minutes before, the _Flying Dutchman_ had surfaced, drawn to its defenseless prey like a fish to a lure. The rest of the crew had heard it, and they didn't know what it was. That had put all of them on edge; they had begun to feel that something was not right. Jack, however, felt it worse than anyone. He knew just what the sound had meant, because he had experienced it once before.

The _Dutchman_ had surfaced, he was sure of it, and if Marie managed to get tangled into this mess… he didn't even wan to consider it. But, unfortunately, he was. That miserable conscience of his had increased in volume to the point here it was now screaming at him for letting his fool heard get the better of him. Oh yes, Jack Sparrow was full of clever ideas and plans, he just couldn't stop his wife from fouling them up, and now she was in danger and it was all his fault.

Suddenly there was a loud yell from the starboard side, a yell that came from someone in the water. Gibbs ran to the side, along with some of the other crewmen. "Cap'n, its Marie." He called.

"Get her onboard, quickly." Said Jack, relief flooding through him at the news that Marie was safe.

However, when she came onboard, dripping wet and shivering, but unharmed, the welcome he got wasn't exactly what he had expected. "Marie," he said, as approached her, "are you all ri-"

Marie punched Jack with a solid right hook that sent him reeling. Stars and checkers suddenly exploded in front of Jack's vision. But there was nothing to stop his ears from Marie's bellowing roar. "And don't you say you didn't deserve that, Jack Sparrow! You and I both know that you did."

Jack shook his head, managing to get rid of any mental abstractions in his eyesight. Marie was a towering fir of rage; he could see that right off. Her body was tight and rigid, and her hands were clenched into firsts so tight that he knuckles were turning white. Her eyes blazed like twin green fires. She clearly wasn't in the mood for joking. Jack had only seen her like this once before, and it had been a miracle that there had been no blood spilt or heads rolling before she had finally calmed down.

"Now, Marie, let me explain."

"You don't need to explain anything to me, Jack!" said Marie, "I know exactly what you were trying to do: trick my brother into taking your place on the _Flying Dutchman_. Well, congratulations, you're brilliant plan has succeeded. With the unfortunate side effect that now Will is going to become a slave in your name. I hope that you are happy, because that's all that you're soon going to be happy about."

"Marie, don't you think that you might be overreacting."

"Overreacting?!" Marie nearly screamed, "You think I'm overreacting? I think that I have a right to be overreacting. Jack, he's my twin brother. I thought you understood that. I thought that you had at least some idea about what loyalty meant. I can see now that I have been proved wrong."

That did it. Jack couldn't just stand by and take this. "Well, since we're on the subject of loyalty, why did you leave your brother over there stranded on his own?"

"I didn't have much choice. We were outnumbered from the start. I had no choice but to leave him behind."

"So, in other words, you ran out on him?"

"Only when there was nothing else I could do. I, at least, tried, which is more that I can say about you. I wouldn't have had to "run out on him" to use your words, if you hadn't forced me to go with him in the first place."

"I don't recall forcing you. I don't even recall asking you to go over there in the first place. I would have kept you here if you had been willing to listen to sense."

"Well, you obviously don't me as well as that if you think that would even have made a difference."

"I know you well enough to know that-"

"Cap'n." Gibbs' nervous voice broke into the argument (which was probably a hidden blessing; there was no telling how much farther it could have gone without somebody getting killed).

Jack whirled on him, his voice short, "What?!"

Gibbs winced slightly, but continued. "I think there's somethin' goin' on over there, sir, on the shipwreck. You might want to look for yourself."

Jack grabbed the spyglass from his astonished first mate's grasp and peered through it. Sure enough, a very interesting thing was happening on the shipwreck. And Jack nearly felt his heart jump into his throat when the monstrous face of Davy Jones turned and stared straight at him. The very next instant, Jack lowered the spyglass, and there standing in front of him, was Davy Jones himself.

Marie heard herself gasping with shock when she saw Davy Jones. One second he hadn't been there, and the next he had. His monstrous appearance did little to take away from the shock. A thick mass of moving tentacles hung from his face, like a beard. His slimy skin was pale and fish-like. And his clothing was encrusted with sea creatures and plants. One hand was a tentacle, the other a snapping crab claw. Cold, ice-blue eyes, set above a lipless mouth, glared harshly at Jack. Whatever she had seen aboard the ship wreck and the _Flying Dutchman_ nothing had prepared her for the sight of their captain.

As soon as Davy Jones had made his fearsome appearance, his crew suddenly began appearing among Jack's crew, grabbing them and holding knives and daggers to their throats, making it impossible for them to do anything for the defense of their captain. Marie let out a strangled scream as she felt that cold alien grasp coming from behind her.

There was a great rush of activity, then silence. Jack looked from his captive crew, back at Jones, and said, "Oh."

"You have a debt to pay." Said Davy Jones in a harsh, Scottish voice. He came towards Jack, while Jack, looking decidedly nervous, retreated. "You've been captain of the _Black Pearl_ for thirteen years. That was out agreement."

Jack, wincing tried to point out the loophole. "Technically, I was only captain for two years, than I was viciously mutinied upon."

Davy Jones didn't call the bluff. "Than you were a poor captain, but you were a captain nonetheless. Have you now introduced yourself all these years as Captain Jack Sparrow?" The rest of Jones' crew laughed at the joke. Marie found it less than humorous.

Jack continued to drive his bargain, trying to ignore the fact that Marie would probably kill him after the actual fact. "You've got my payment, one soul to serve aboard your ship, he's already over there."

"Jack." Said Marie, horrified. But the iron grip on her shoulders prevented her from doing anything.

"One soul is not equal to another." Said Jones.

Jack pounced on that. "Ah-ha, so we've established that my theory is sound in principle. Now, we're just haggling over price."

Jones seemed to be caught off caught off guard by this. He stared sideways at Jack and asked, "Price?"

Jack let the thought hang in the air, before continuing in his persuasive argument. "Just how many souls do you think my soul is worth?"

Jones seemed to consider that before answering. "100 souls, three days."

"You're a diamond, mate." Said Jack, turning as he said, "Send me back the boy, I'll get started right off."

Jack was stopped in his path by a fearsome shark man. Jones' voice cut through the night. "I keep the boy. A good faith payment. That leaves you only 99 more to go."

As Jones and his crew laughed at yet another of his morbid jokes. Jack tried again to obtain Will's release, a none to easy task considering who he was up against, but then, Marie's smoldering glare burning into his back, he had rather good incentive.

"Have you not Will Turner? He's noble, heroic, terrific soprano. Worth at least four, maybe three-and-a-half." Seeing that he wasn't getting anywhere, he decided to try for the one weakness that he knew Jones had. "And did I happen to mention, he's in love."

At the word "love," he saw Jones' icy demeanor beginning to crack. Jack quickly moved to press his advantage. "With a girl. Due to be married, betrothed. Dividing her from him and him from her would only be half as cruel as allowing them to be joined in holy matrimony, eh?" Jack was behind Jones when he said this, but he could still see hat Jones' entire face had softened and his eyes, awash in tears, were staring into a distance that was measured only in time. Jack hoped that that softening would play to his advantage, but Jones' face hardened suddenly, and he turned a keen glance on Jack.

"If the rumors about ye be true, Jack Sparra', you have yourself condemned yourself to matrimony." Walking along the lone of the captive crew, his crab leg sounding hauntingly on the _Pearl_'s deck. He suddenly reached out and grabbed Marie by the wrist. Hauling her out in front of him, he addressed Jack once more. "Dare I ask if this pretty little thing be the one who is so much spoken about?"

"Get off of me, you repulsive, degenerate heap of tentacles." Cried Marie, struggling in vain against Jones' slimy touch. Her struggling did not affect Jones in the least. His grip was solid and his bulk strong, he was in effect, immoveable.

Jack looked appalled by the scene before him. His worst fears about this situation were coming true right before his eyes. Jones knew, even without his answer. And if he knew, than that meant that all his efforts to protect Marie were now useless. "Whether she's married to me or not, I have a hard time seeing what she has to do with the present situation."

Jones stared long and hard at Jack, before turning a cold, cruel smile on Marie. "Tell me, Lady Sparra, do you fear for your husband? Does the prospect of his death frighten you?"

Marie turned her gaze on Jack, hurt, betrayal and anger blazing in her eyes. "If I had my choice, you could take him."

"Marie." Said Jack, but Marie turned her face away from him, refusing to look at him,

Jones laughed his harsh, grating laugh when he observed this. "Wild as the sea," he said, looking Marie over, "And as untamable, even by you, Jack Sparra."

"Jones," said Jack, his voice growing suddenly hard. He couldn't stand seeing him with his hands all over Marie. He also didn't like the look that he was seeing in Jones' eyes. He seemed to have lost Will; he wasn't going to allow the same thing to happen to Marie. "Let her go. She's not part of any bargain between us, past and present."

Jones looked from Jack, to Marie, before throwing her roughly to the deck. "I might warn you against such unions, Sparra!" he said, coldly. He looked back at Marie and sneered, as if the sight of her brought back many unpleasant memories. "They only ever end in naught but disaster." Getting back to the point at hand, he declared, "I keep the boy, 99 souls." He looked at Jack closely, before asking pointedly, "But I wonder Sparra, can you live with this. Can you condemn an innocent man, a friend, to a lifetime of servitude in your name when you roam free?"

Jack seemed to consider the choice, before answering, "Yep, I'm good with it." The tone of his voice, though flippant, sounded somewhat forced. "Shall we seal in blood, er, uh…. ink?"

In answer, Davy Jones grabbed Jack by the hand, enveloping it in the mass of slimy tentacles that served as Jones' right hand. Jack heard himself gasping with shock, as that strange, alien feeling moved from his hand, up through his arm and through his entire body. It was a taste of the fate that those who were mad enough to accept the deal that Davy Jones offered. They were doomed to lose their humanity until they became monster, like the one standing before him now.

"Three days." Uttered Davy Jones, a dire warning to Jack at what would happen should he fail to keep his side of the bargain. He tried to untangle his hand from Jack's, but did so only after a little bit of difficulty. Turning, he began talking away, the last words he had spoken echoing eerily around the night air. "Three days."

With harsh laughter, the monstrous crew of Davy Jones loosened their grips on Jack's men and vanished along with their captain, leaving behind several fairly rattled nerves and not one of them able to say that he was unafraid.

And in the tense atmosphere around him, Jack lifted his hand, which was covered in slime from Davy Jones' tentacles. The Black Spot slowly faded, until it vanished completely. He was reprieved, for the moment.

He turned his eyes to Marie, who was in the process of picking herself off the deck.

"Marie," he asked, for the second time that evening, "are you al right?"

Marie didn't answer directly, but merely cast a tired glare in Jack's direction. "I hope you're happy."

"Marie, I tried."

"You obviously didn't try hard enough." She snapped, "Now Will is trapped over there, all because of your doing. Right now, Jack, I wish that my name were still Turner instead of Sparrow. I almost wish, Jack, that I had never met you." With that statement stinging in Jack's ears, Marie brushed past him and stalked to the cabin, slamming the door so hard, it caused everyone within hearing range to visibly wince.

In the aftermath of Marie's blistering tirade, Jack found himself quite unsure as to what to do next. Looking from the cabin to his still slime-covered hand, he couldn't help but feel that he had gotten himself into an unholy mess.

"Uh, Mr. Gibbs?"

"Aye, Cap'n."

"I feel sullied and unused." And he wasn't sure if he meant Marie's anger with him or his disturbing encounter with Davy Jones.

"And what are you going to do about Marie? I doubt that she'll let this go very easily."

Jack's answer was less then his usual confidence. "I don't know what I'm going to do about her."

"And how do you intend to harvest these 99 souls in three days?"

Jack was relieved that there was at least one question he could answer with some measure of self-assurance. "Fortunately, he was mum as to the condition in which these souls need be."

"Ah, Tortuga." Said Gibbs, catching on to Jack's measure.

Jack almost unconsciously wiped his hand on Gibbs' shirt as he murmured in confirmation. "Tortuga."

* * *

Read and review.

Next chapter: We catch up with Emma and find out what her role will be in all of this. As it turns out, it will put her in direct contact with her deepest fears, but also set her on a path to her destiny.


	24. Chapter 24: What Must Be Done

Hey there, my faithful readers. I know that it has been awhile for updates, but this was a doubleheader, and those always seem to take a bit more time. I hope that they will be worth the wait. In these two chapters, we see just how much Emma is willing to risk to fight her own battles. Oh, and there will be tons more Beckett bashing, which is always fun. Please enjoy!

Chapter 23: What Must be Done

Three days. It had been three days and still there was no word from James. She had waited anxiously for his return the night he had disappeared with no explanation, and she found herself waiting anxiously now, without any idea of where he was or what he might have been doing. All she knew was that Elizabeth had escaped and her father was in custody for aiding her, but there had been no mention of her husband, which she found to be all the more disturbing.

However, on the third day of since his and Elizabeth's disappearance, she received a message that would change the direction of her role in this adventure completely.

She was in the parlor, when her maid, Lucy, appeared at the door, looking rather confused, as if something had happened that she did not quite understand. "Lucy, is something wrong?"

"I don't know, my lady. The oddest thing just happened. A messenger was just at the door now. He told me to give you this, and then left as quickly as he came."

"I didn't hear anything."

"He was quite secretive about it, my lady. He was almost afraid of getting caught, it seemed to me."

Emma took the half-folded piece of paper that Lucy handed her and once she was alone, she read it quickly.

_Mrs. Norrington,_

_I have something of the highest importance to discuss with you, and it must be done in secret. Meet me in St. Mary's Street. See to it that you are not followed._

_Andrew Groves_

Emma had to read the letter twice before she was certain that what she was reading was actually true. She had come to respect the young lieutenant who now served as her husband's second-in-command. And as far as she knew, he hadn't come under Beckett's control, or his suspicion.

She was inclined to believe that he was telling the truth. But she also knew that treachery could lurk behind the deepest show of loyalty. She decided that she had to take the chance. If there was even the smallest chance that Groves had any information about James' whereabouts, she would have to take the risk.

* * *

St. Mary's Street was located in the less well to do region of Port Royal. Here the poor and destitute had set up what they could and scrounged for whatever they could lay hands on. It was a place that many of the more well to do of Port Royal avoided. But, Emma had visited here many times. Her visits to the downtrodden of this part of the city had earned her something of a reputation. There was hardly a soul who had not been touched by her kind spirit or who had not experienced her helping hand at some point in the past.

But this was not her usual day for such errands of mercy. And in fact, any who saw her that say would have suspected that judging from her somewhat anxious manner, such things were the last things on her mind. They merely shrugged and dismissed it though. Despite the respect and affection that was felt for her in St. Mary's St., she was an aristocrat; she was probably entitled to a few of their odd habits.

What was causing Emma's distraction this day; however, was something beyond even their wildest imaginings. She kept looking over her shoulder, half-expecting to see that she was being followed. The suspense of both that idea and Groves' urgent message were enough to send her mind whirling. It came as something of a relief when she heard a familiar voice calling to her from a dark side street. "Mrs. Norrington."

Looking to her left, she saw the outline of Andrew Groves. "Groves," she said, joining him, as surreptitiously as she was able. "What's going on? Your note sounded urgent."

"It is urgent. You weren't followed, were you?"

"No, I wasn't."

"Good, but however long that could last I don't know."

"Groves, what are you talking about?"

Groves, who had been looking into the street, as if to make sure that Emma had indeed not been followed, before he turned back to face her. "Listen to me, Mrs. Norrington, very carefully. I would have told your husband this, but since he's not here, I think that someone needs to know."

"Go on."

"First I should tell you that your husband is now a wanted man."

"What?"

Groves looked honestly surprised. "You don't know?" Emma shook her head. "When Miss Swann escaped from the prison three nights ago, it wasn't only your father who helped her. Commodore Norrington also did too."

"How do you know that?"

Groves was silent for a moment, as if wondering if he could trust her with what he was about to say, before admitting. "Because I helped them to get away from Port Royal. I knew a Captain who was leaving for England in the morning. I managed to get them onboard. Now Beckett has used the Commodore's disappearance to further his own ends. A warrant is now out for his arrest. The way that Beckett tells it, both Commodore Norrington and your sister threatened him, before escaping. I'm sure that you and I agree that Beckett's word is not to be trusted.

"But what could Beckett possibly hope to gain by disgracing James?"

"My guess is that it's to prove that the Royal Navy can't hold its place in the Caribbean any longer. Two days ago, I received word from one of my contacts in the colonies. There' more to Beckett's scheming then even I thought at first. And some of what I heard I find hard to believe."

"Like what?"

"Have you ever heard of the story of Davy Jones?"

"In passing. I've never heard it spoken of in detail. Isn't he supposedly the ruler of the sea?"

"Yes, and up until yesterday I would have dismissed it as a sailor's superstition, but there is a part of the story which I find rather disturbing. This contact of mine, he's on rather good relations with several members of the court, especially those that deal with maritime affairs. He told me that what he's heard from his won sources that it was rumored Beckett planned on using more than just standard force to establish order In the Caribbean. And I think that he meant help of the supernatural kind."

"What could this Davy Jones do that would help accomplish this, assuming he's even real at all?"

"There are many versions of the tale of Davy Jones. One version that I have heard is that Davy Jones fell in love and cut out his heart when he was rebuked. He locked the heart in a chest and hid it away on a remote island. It is said that whoever finds the chest will have command Davy Jones and all the power that he possesses. He can be commanded to do anything." Grove shook his head. "It sounds utterably laughable to say it."

"And yet it is easy to laugh in disbelief at something you have never experienced." Replied Emma, grimly. A year ago, she wouldn't have believed what she ha just heard, but a year ago, she wouldn't have believed in the existence of skeletal pirates. But then, she had actually lived through such a supposedly ridiculous idea. She had seen what should have been impossible, so hearing of this was not so difficult for her to believe.

"I'm not entirely sure if I believe it completely myself." Groves continued, "My source certainly didn't. But it reinforces the fact that Beckett is even more dangerous than I at first thought, or most likely even Commodore Norrington."

"But what does my husband have to do with all this?'

"That just seems to be another part of Beckett's grand strategy. I think he's trying to permanently break the power the Royal Navy has in the Caribbean with every restraint that we would be able to stop him with out of the way, Beckett had nearly unlimited power in these waters. Unchecked, he could grow to encompass the East, but the West as well. And I think that is his ultimate goal. With the head of the Royal Navy wanted for arrest, that's a major step. If only there was some way we could anticipate his moves. It would give us an edge. But he is more unpredictable than anyone I've ever encountered, you can never tell whether he's lying or not, and he keeps his true plans so close, it's nearly impossible to tell what he's truly planning."

Emma had been listening to this speech in silence, her mind racing with unspoken thoughts. Beckett hid everything behind that coolly polite mask of his, no one could penetrate that mask by direct force; at least no man could, but a woman…

A plan was beginning to take shape in her mind. What if there was a way that someone could look beyond that mask? But in a way that he would not be expecting? What if there was a way that Beckett's weakness could be used against him? Of course, Emma was probably the only one who knew what Beckett's only true weakness was: herself. What if she could use that weakness for her own benefit and the benefit of a greater good? It would mean that she would have to be in close contact with Beckett and possibly even succumb to his advances, or at least, give the impression that she was succumbing. She couldn't think of anything more loathsome but if there was one thing she sure of, she was not going to do nothing while Beckett moved his plots forward. She would do what had to be done, even if it meant facing her deepest fears.

"Mrs. Norrington?" Groves' confused voice broke through her thoughts, "Are you all right?"

Emma, her mind made up, turned to face the young Lieutenant and said, "I might be able to be of more help to you than hearing old information. I might be able to help you get even more."

Now it was Groves' turn to look confused. "What do you mean?"

"If you want information about Beckett's plans, I might know how to get it."

"What are suggesting?"

"I am suggesting getting those plans straight from the source himself."

* * *


	25. Chapter 25: Strategy and Seduction

Chapter 24: Strategy and Seduction

Emma would have the opportunity to put her plan into action sooner than she thought. For when she got back home, she found an unexpected visitor waiting for her.

"My lady," said Lucy, as soon as she met her mistress at the door, "I'm sorry, but Lord Beckett is here."

"What?"

"I told him that you were gone, he insisted on waiting. He said he had business with you that couldn't be delayed."

"It's all right, Lucy." Emma reassured her, "I'm sure that Lord Beckett has good reason for wanting to see me. Is he in the parlor?"

"Yes, my lady."

Thanking Lucy, Emma walked down the hallway to the parlor, where her opponent was waiting for her. She considered Beckett to be her opponent, though, hopefully with any luck, Beckett wouldn't be able to know that.

Saying a quick prayer for strength, she walked boldly into the parlor. Sure enough, there stood Cutler Beckett standing with his back to her at the fireplace. Hearing her enter the room, he turned and said with his usual politeness. "Ah, Mrs. Norrington."

"Lord Beckett," said Emma, masking her rolling emotions behind her own mask of politeness. "I hope that you have not been waiting long?"

"Of course not. The time seemed short enough." He looked around at the parlor, seeming to survey of stick of furniture and picture with intense scrutiny, as if it might contain some secret that he could use to his advantage. "This is a charming room. Mr. Norrington has obviously used his former position well."

Emma tried not to wince when she heard this sentence, as it was clearly a provacatory statement. Beckett even glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, half expecting her to rise to the bait, but she kept her face carefully neutral. Beckett, seeing this, seemed to relax slightly. Seeing the pianoforte that was positioned in front of the window, he walked over to it, saying as he went, "This is an extremely fine instrument, one of the best that money can buy."

"It was my husband's engagement present."

"I'm sure that you still play and sing as beautifully as I remember you did all those years ago."

"I do try to play, when I have the time." changing the subject, tactfully, she stated, "Forgive me, Lord Beckett, but I am having trouble understanding what was so important that you wanted to see me."

"Ah, yes, of course, Mrs. Norrington. It would be a disservice to you to keep such painful news from you. The news itself is enough of a burden." Taking a deep breath, as if the task he was about to undergo thoroughly pained him. "Mrs. Norrington, I regret to inform you that your husband is a wanted criminal on the run.'

Emma's eyes widened and she stared at Beckett in apparent shock. "How-how can that be? What is he guilty of?"

"He aided in the escape of your sister, who, as you are aware of under sentence herself. That crime would be bad enough, but in the process of escaping, they broke into my office and stole vital documents that were in my care. And you husband also threatened my life. My men tried to pursue them, naturally, but they were unable to apprehend them. One of them even stated that Mr. Norrington used your sister as a shield against them firing, though that is only an unconfirmed report. I wouldn't give it much credence, but then, nothing is entirely out of the realm of possibility."

Emma listened to this speech with mounting horror, at least outwardly. Inwardly, she fumed that Beckett was uttering such monstrous lies. But she buried those feelings back, concentrated al her effort on the charade that she was performing.

"Are you…" she asked, her voice growing faint, "Is it certain?"

"Quite certain, I'm afraid." Beckett's nearly imperceptible mask faltered slightly, and there was a look of concern in his eyes as he looked more closely at her. "Emma, are you all right? You look very ill all at once?"

"No, I-I am fine." She said, "This is all just quite a lot to take in all at once and I…" swaying slightly, she seemed like she was about to swoon, but Beckett was by her side in an instant, the concern now showing very clearly on his face. He led hero over to one of the chairs and helped her sit down.

"Emma, I apologize. I shouldn't have told you this so abruptly."

"No, no. it was the best way, probably the only way. With news such as this, the direct way is sometimes the only way. I should be the one apologizing, look at me, fainting away like a young school girl. You shouldn't feel responsible for my weakness."

Beckett looked slightly relieved when he heard this. "Than it seems the blame is evenly spread. Had I known that it would you cause this much pain, I wouldn't have signed the warrant for his arrest."

"You were doing your duty. I cannot begrudge you that."

Beckett suddenly withdrew and he looked at her critically. "Strange." He said, after a moment's silence, "But it seemed to me that you recently judged me for doing the exact same thing to your sister. I was merely doing my duty then. Why are you suddenly so understanding now?"

Emma's mind raced frantically, trying to come up with some sort of excuse before Beckett found her out. "You must understand me, Lord Beckett. The bond of sisterhood reaches deeper than the bond of marriage. My sister and I were incredibly close. It was a something of a shock to see her arrested in such a manner, especially by you. Surely you must understand that."

Beckett seemed to consider this before his face relaxed and he even smiled. "That makes sense. I must apologize for the trouble that seems to have caused you. In fact, I apologize for the whole way I have been behaving towards you. It's been most ungentlemanlike. I hope you know that I never meant to offend you in anyway. And may I assure you that whatever the crimes of those who are closely connected with you, you have not been in any way to blame. I have seen to that personally."

Emma smiled. "It has been a long time since we last saw each other, Lord Beckett. And when last we parted, I was quite young. I suppose that there had to be some awkwardness, for both of us."

Beckett's face seemed to alter when he heard this; his eyes flashed for a brief second with triumph and satisfaction, and oddly enough, a twisted sort of hope. Emma knew what that meant. He thought or at least, suspected that she harbored feelings for him. That was exactly what she wanted him to think. She remembered enough of Beckett's character to give him exactly what he wanted to hear her say.

"Yes, I suppose that would be true. You will forgive me for being curious." He sat down in a chair beside her, pulling it closer than was necessary. "You will forgive me for being inquisitive. Emma, but did your husband not tell you this?"

Emma turned to look at him, slightly frightened as to why he should ask that question, "No, he told me nothing. This is the first time I've heard of it since his disappearance."

"I'm honestly surprised. I was under the impression that you were the kind of couple that bared your souls. Quite a nice thing to share I'm sure."

"I'm glad that you think so and you see that in the two of us, as everyone does. If only it were true. She made sure to put a certain note of wistfulness in her voice, as if what she was about to say was a burden that she spoke of with no one.

Beckett looked at her with renewed interest. "Oh, is there something wrong with your marriage?"

"No, nothing, at least morally." She looked at Beckett, who nodded at to continue. "My husband doesn't tell me anything. We hardly ever speak. We might as well be strangers. Please, don't misunderstand me. James Norrington is a very fine man, kind and attentive. But we have so little in common. He being in the Royal Navy, and I will not being very interested in such things. His business often keeps away at night, we don't speak. It's not the marriage that I hoped it would be."

"I am truly sorry to hear that." said Beckett, his voice dripping honeyed sympathy. His hand snaked down to touch her bare wrist. Emma restrained the man impulse to jerk away, but she remained perfectly still, pretending she didn't even notice. "I didn't think that your father would have agreed to this match if he knew it would bring you such sorrow."

"It was for him that I did nit. James was once engaged to my sister. James released her when he found out that she was in love with William Turner. Father was disappointed and so was James; they truly wanted such a match to take place. When he started courting me, I do think that it was on father's suggestion. And when he asked, I could not help but say yes. I couldn't bear the thought of causing either of them more pain. I always knew that I would be the one in my family to sacrifice."

"It is such a tragedy." Murmured Beckett, almost unthinkingly.

"Oh, my situation is hardly tragic. I do lead a good life and I can often forget how lonely I can sometimes feel. Though, sometimes, I do wish…" she stopped, as if reluctant to go on.

"Wish what?" prompted Beckett, hanging on her every word.

"I wish that I could be appreciated, every once and awhile, instead of being treated like a figurehead."

"When I said that your situation was a tragedy." Said Beckett, after a moment of openly staring at her, "I meant it. I remember how you were all those years ago and I see you now, fulfilling all expectations. My dear lady, a woman such you as you, deserves so much better than what you have received."

Emma turned her head and looked at him. The thought crossed her mind that she should spit in his face and tell him to never come back. Instead, she smiled, seemingly embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have burdened you with my problems."

"It was no trouble, I can assure you." Beckett said as he rose. Perhaps, he believed that trying to press further at this time would most likely destroy whatever ground he thought he might have gained. "I must be going."

"Yes, you must, I suppose."

Beckett started to leave, but than stopped and turned. "If I may be so bold, Mrs. Norrington, I would like to say that if you should need any help in dealing with this crisis, my services are wholly at your disposal."

"Lord Beckett, you have done so much already. I would hate to impose on you."

"It would be no imposition. I can assure you."

Emma smiled gracefully. "Then I thank you. I would welcome your presence again. Should you have the opportunity? You will be a great comfort, as you were today."

Beckett's eyes flashed with satisfaction and he smiled charmingly. "Then for such an invitation, Madame, I shall make myself free." He bowed, "Until we meet again."

"Yes, until then."

Emma was grateful when he was gone. The charade had begun to be difficult to hold up. She was now ever more repulsed by him than she had been before. But the task before her demanded that she show him just the opposite. He had believed her, that was the main thing. He had told her nothing of consequence this first meeting. But she hoped that his blind affection for her would make him drop his caution and reveal what he was planning. She now had even more reason to do so. If what he had said of James was true, her husband was truly in danger. If she did not act, then he could die.

She sighed and closed her eyes. Would she have the strength to hold up the act for as long as that would take? She was not used to lying so extensively and she had just told that odious Beckett some of the worst lies that she could ever have dreamed.

Her eyes hardened and she clenched her fists in determination. She would win, she would hold on, no matter how long this lasted. She would do this. Once before she had been Beckett's victim, once before he had been beaten by him. This time, she vowed she would be the victor, no matter what the cost.

* * *

Hope that everyone enjoyed these two chapters. The three prongs of the story are now pretty well established. Be sure to review and tell me what you think.

Next chapter: James shows that he has a flair for the dramatic when he and Elizabeth conspire together to bring the _Edinburgh Trader_ to Tortuga.


	26. Chapter 26: Spirits' Command

Chapter 25: Spirits' Command

The _Edinburgh Trader _scudded the night waters of the Caribbean smoothly. However, that smoothness certainly couldn't be used to describe the mood of its Captain. Now that the voyage was underway, he was in the process of reviewing the contents of the packet of official documents that had been handed him by the East India Trading Company officer before his ship had left Port Royal. Needless to say, they had left him less than a sunny mood.

"It's an outrage." He cried to Bursar and his quartermaster as he threw the numerous documents on the table in his cabin. "Port tariffs, berthing fees, wharf handling and, heaven help us, pilotage." Paying all of that, plus the EITC controlling what he traded and who he traded with, he world hardly be able to come up with a profit. "Are we all to work for the East India Trading Company than?" he asked in frustration. Who had asked the EITC to come here in the first place? When had he ever agreed to work for people such as this?

His two officers exchanged uncomfortable looks before his Quartermaster piped up uncertainly. "I'm afraid, sir, Tortuga is the only free port left in these waters."

"A pirate port is what you mean. Well, I'm sorry. An honest sailor is what I am. I make my living fair and I sleep well each night, so I do."

While he had been speaking, his back was turned to the window of his cabin, so he didn't see the ghostly white form that suddenly floated past, but the Quartermaster and Bursar did.

"S-Sir?" said Bursar, in a frightened half-whisper, gesturing to the window.

The three men edged to the window and peered out into the dark night. They gaped and recoiled in horror as they saw the white dress drift past once more. They recognized the dress as the one they had found a few days before. They had practically torn the ship apart, from stem to stern and they hadn't found the supposed stowaway. Despite the resumed suppositious mutterings of the crew, Bellamy had still maintained that the dress belonged to a stowaway. However, seeing the dress floating seemingly on its own was beginning to make him rethink his opinions.

Suddenly, a sailor appeared on the stairway that led up to the deck. "Captain," he cried, anxiously. "You should come up on deck, sir, there's something that you should see."

Hurriedly, they followed the sailor up onto the deck, where they were met by a truly strange sight. The specter of the white dress hovered a few feet above the deck. Slowly, deliberately it raised its left arm and pointed out to sea. "She wants you to do something." Said the Quartermaster, uncertainly.

The ghost gestured more emphatically in the direction it had originally chosen. Bellamy took a step forward, his eyes focused on spirit, completely taken in. "She's tryin' to give sign."

Apparently becoming inpatient of their slow realization of what she wanted, the spirit suddenly swooped down on them. The men ducked, afraid of even feeling a flutter of that haunted cloth. The spirit came in again and vanished.

Bellamy rose up, looking around him. "Over there!" he cried, pointing to the port side, where the spirit had come from last. "Look for a sign."

As one, everyone hurried over to the port side. All except the sailor who had first called Bellamy up on deck. He stared at the men who were trying to find a nonexistent sign in the ocean and then glanced up into the rigging, where Elizabeth had been manipulating the "spirit" all along. James saw her sign in exasperation and he shrugged. He had just been in charge of getting them up on deck, not of what direction they were supposed to look in. seeing no other way out, Elizabeth grabbed one of the ropes and slid down to the deck.

Meanwhile, unaware of what was happening behind them, Bellamy and his crew scanned the sea anxiously, looking for anything that remotely resembled a sign.

"Look, there, there!" cried Bursar, pointing, "There's a sign."

"That's seaweed." Said the Quartermaster.

"Seaweed could be a sign." Said Bursar, trying to cover his embarrassment.

"Looks like entrails."

"That would be a bad sign." Said Bellamy

Elizabeth, landing on a barrel behind the ogling men, stated in a low voice, "What's that over there?" Her voice, though everyone thought it belonged to a boy, drew the attention for the crew. And they hurried over to where Elizabeth was looking.

Right before the "ghost" was vanished no one had noticed that it had knocked over a lantern that had been sitting on one of the barrels. Where the lantern had fallen to the deck and shattered, the fire had spelled out the word "Tortuga."

A long moment of silence followed this revelation. Before James finally said, "Then it's all to clear."

"What?" said Bellamy, who didn't like the idea of a simple sailor subverting his authority.

"We have to go to Tortuga. It's the only explanation, don't you see?"

"And what makes you so sure?" asked Bellamy.

James turned to the captain and looked very honestly surprised. "You don't know, do you?" the slight edge in his voice caused even Bellamy to listen closely to what he was saying. "You don't understand how spirits at sea work?"

"N-no." Stammered Bellamy, "How do they work?"

"Then you've never heard the story of the _Columbia_?" The edge of doom in his voice caused everyone to listen. "It was a trading vessel that used to sail the trade routes between England and America. Actually, it was much like the _Edinburgh Trader._"

"I've never heard of a ship called the _Columbia_, as traveled these parts." Said Bellamy.

"Well, I don't suppose you would; it sank nearly twenty years ago. Or so all the stories say; the story goes that on an ordinary trading mission, a spirit appeared to members of the crew. The crew soon came to believe that she was the ghost of a noble lady, who had appeared to them to demand something. But before any of them could find it out and grant it to her, the Captain put a stop to the intrigues. He was not wise enough to heed the spirits warning." He cast a significant glance at Bellamy, who was starting to turn a shade of white. "He was disparaging of the start from the of the crew's reports of the ghost. Were they going to be controlled by this gossamer spirit, or would they be ruled by sense as any proper Englishmen should be? And, so the ship continued on its way. As the days went by, the strangest things began to happen. A shrieking through the rigging, that didn't come from the wind. Food and drink stores started disappearing, though no one was eating them. And most disturbing of all, were the ways that the crew began acting, especially the Captain. He began talking to himself, hallucinating. He claimed that he kept seeing blood on the deck, blood in the bed, blood in his drink. He claimed that he kept hearing voices that condemned him for not granting the last wish of a gentlewoman. Things began deteriorating until finally, one day, the captain starred the ship into a bank of heavy fog. The crew warned him not to do it. There would be no way to know if there was danger. But, the captain insisted, and so…"

James let this sentence hang in the air, unfinished. The crew of the _Edinburgh Trader_ many of who were naturally superstitious, had fallen for James' story completely. Terror and horror were plain on their faces, even Bellamy, who was especially mindfulby the story of the stubborn captain who had gone mad and brought destruction upon himself and his ship.

"What h-happened to them?" asked one of the crew in frightened, trembling voice.

"No one knows. The level-minded say that the ship sank and pay it no more mind than that, but there are others who say differently. They claim that the _Columbia_ actually rose from the sea and wanders the seas, ghostly and pale as the spirit that made them that way. Woe to any those who should even catch sight of them, lest their fate be the same." He looked around him. "They say that this the best type of night for spotting them."

A gasp of terror rose from the crew and murmurs began running among them. They all cast glances at the sea, half fearful that they would catch sight of the _Columbia_ and be condemned to a horrible fate. James waited for a few seconds, before inquiring of Captain Bellamy, as if nothing were out of the ordinary. "So, then, Captain, what course were we planning on?"

Bellamy, whose eyes were the size of two pies, cleared his throat and turned to the rest of the crew. "Right then, lads, what do you say we make for Tortuga?"

A loud (and relieved) cheer greeted this idea and the crew began throwing themselves into changing the ship's course, each of them silently hoping fervently that it wouldn't be too late to have the spirit's mercy and avoid her anger.

Elizabeth had suspected all along that James was bluffing, but not even she had known that he would be capable of something like this. And she couldn't help but notice as well that he looked quite pleased with himself, and, also strangely nostalgic.

"I never knew you had it in you." She commented, softly so that no one could hear.

"What do you mean?"

"To come up with such a fantastical story like that?"

"To be quite honest, it wasn't all mine. The legend of the _Columbia_ was an old story that my father used to tell me. I merely embellished a few key parts to convince the good captain for the choice that needed to be made."

Elizabeth smiled. "Well, you embellished correctly. I couldn't have done it without you?"

James accepted the compliment modestly. "You're clever enough. I've no doubt you would have managed to get it done yourself." The smile that was on his face faded, and after a moment's pause, asked her quietly. "Elizabeth, are you sure you want to do this?"

Elizabeth's flashed with determination. "Yes, I am. Will left to find Jack and he said he would start in Tortuga."

"Even if that is where he started how can you be sure that he would still be in Tortuga?"

Elizabeth looked down, slightly embarrassed. "I don't. But it's as good a place to start as any."

"Forgive me, Elizabeth, but that's hardly encouraging."

"Well, if you have any other ideas…"

She had him there. "To Tortuga?"

"Yes," said Elizabeth, with finality, "Tortuga."

* * *

No bid announcements to announce, so just read and review.

Next chapter: Marie gets a glimpse of her destiny. And we return to that famous city of vice and inequity, Tortuga. What will happen when Jack Sparrow and James Norrington cross paths?


	27. Chapter 27: Tortuga Again

Chapter 24: Tortuga Again

Marie was running. She did not where she was running or where she was, all she knew was that she had to keep running. Her life, her very soul depended upon it.

Phantom shapes were chasing her, ghoulish laughter echoing all around her, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see what they resembled the half-fish creatures that made up the crew of Davy Jones. And they were coming after her. She ran until she thought that she could run no further, and then she ran on. But no matter how hard she ran, they always seemed to be no more than a few steps behind her.

She suddenly found herself in a large, cathedral-like room. At the head of the room was an immense pipe organ that was playing a thunderous melody. And the one who was bringing forth its anguished music was none other then Davy Jones himself.

He stood up from the organ, and turned his pale, ice-blue eyes upon her face, the tortured song still playing on. Davy Jones came toward her, his face a mask of terrifying rage and contempt. Around them both, his monstrous crew gathered around, mocking and laughing at Marie's obvious fear.

"Tell me, Marie Sparrow," thundered Jones' harsh voice, "do you fear death?"

No sooner were the words out of his moth than she felt herself caught in a swirling vortex of water. She couldn't swim, she felt herself beginning to drown. Panic welled within her as she beat uselessly against the pounding waves.

And as of that wasn't bad enough, she soon began to see images in the water, images that were out of her worst nightmares. Her father, staring at her blankly, no hint of recognition on his face for his daughter that he had left behind. His face and body had grown more alien with coral, starfish and other creatures that were encrusting his body. His sword was upraised and he was coming at her, with the mindless determination to kill.

Than she saw the kracken, a truly terrible beast that was breaking a ship as easily as if it were a toy.

She saw more images, flying at her thick and fast, and yet, she was able to see each clearly. They all contained some scene of suffering or despair, and they all involved people that she cared about.

But then, she saw the worst event of all, she saw her brother, in pain, excruciating pain, perhaps even dying. Elizabeth was kneeling by his side, weeping heartbrokenly.

Marie saw all this, and she began to feel that there was more to them then just simple images of her sleeping mind. They were signs of things that were yet to come.

"No!" she thought, helplessly, "No! It can't happen like this!"

The swirling vortex closed in around d her, swallowing all images, light of conscious thought with a crushing darkness. As Marie floated, motionless, in that dark place, she thought that she heard faintly a voice calling to her from across a vast distance. "Marie, you must help them."

Marie eyes snapped open and she immediately sat up. Her breath was ragged, coming in gasps, and sweat drenched her body. Her heart was pounding and was refusing to slow even now that she was awake.

"It was only a dream." She kept repeating to herself, "It was only a dream."

No, not a dream, a nightmare, the likes of which she had ever experienced before in her life.

Unsteadily, she swung her legs over the side of the bunk and got to her feet. The cabin was empty except for her and no light burned to alleviate the darkness. The only illumination came from the faint moonlight shinning through her windows.

She could not stop the feeling of dread that was gnawing at her stomach. Like Jack, she had never paid much attention to what she had seen in her sleep. But this time, it had been different. She had an uneasy feeling that this dream was more than a simple illusion of the sleeping min and that she wouldn't be able to forget it as quickly as she would have liked.

A knock suddenly interrupted her tense thoughts. Despite herself, Marie jumped at the unexpected sound.

"Marie?" Jack's decidedly less than confidant voice came from the other side of the door. "You in there?"

Marie refused to answer. There was another problem in her life. She didn't care how much time had passed; she was going to make Jack regret what he had done.

"Marie, we're about to make port at Tortuga; thought you might want to join me an' Gibbs on shore."

Marie snorted. Out of all the people she wanted to spend time with, Jack was close to the bottom of the list. Than again… she glanced around her at the suddenly very claustrophobic room. Being in different surroundings may not be a bad idea after the dream she had just experienced. Of course, even if she accepted Jack's invitation, she would make sure that he wouldn't enjoy it, and that he knew she still hadn't forgiven him.

Trying to push the dream to the back of her mind, she went to the door of the cabin and opened it. She found Jack on the other side. When he saw her, his entire face lit up momentarily. He obviously hoped that she was ready to forgive him.

Unfortunately, she had no such intentions. She gave Jack a poisonous glare, before brushing past him without a word.

She could almost hear his face fall. She heard mutter something about, "This is going to be a long evening." before he followed her. Gibbs, guessing that there was potential murder in the air, wisely kept his distance from them both.

* * *

"You would never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy."

Those famous words of a wide man captured Tortuga perfectly.

And had James Norrington ever heard them, he would no doubt have agreed with them. He had never encountered such a despot as this. Noise, gun shots, people trying to kill each other, dust everywhere. It was a wonder to him that people managed to get through a night here, much less a day.

He and Elizabeth had jumped ship when the _Edinburgh Trader_ had made port in Tortuga. He didn't think that they would be missed. However, getting lost in this particular crowd didn't hold much promise to getting out alive. Had his opinion been sought, he would have suggested that they try a less dangerous course than plunging into Tortuga headlong without any sort of plan.

Of course, his opinion had not been sought. Elizabeth had forged ahead from the moment they had set foot in Tortuga, navigating the circuitous alleyways and their piratical citizens as if she had been born to it.

He, on the other hand, felt entirely out of his element. He wasn't used to such surroundings, but there was more to it than being a Royal Navy Commodore suddenly thrust into the world of pirates. It had to do with the fact that he was reliving his past. Everything, everybody in this place reminded him of his family's death. The mad laughter rang through the streets as it had that night when the pirates had attacked the town where he grew up. The gunshots were echoes of the bullets that had taken the lives of his mother and little sister. The sword clanging on steel was his father fighting his last battle. James had seen his father cut down, had run back to protect his mother and sister, only to find them dead.

Such memories of violence and anguish dogged James as he walked through the streets. He tried to bury them back, as he had always done, but in this place, there was nowhere that he could hide them. He couldn't escape the thought that every face of every pirate he saw might have been one who had destroyed his family and childhood.

He followed Elizabeth closely, keeping on hand on his sword. But his normally keen observance of all that went on around him was severely impaired, because all he could see and hear were memories. Had he been paying the proper attention, he might have seen the shadow that was trailing him and Elizabeth through the crowded streets, a shadow of which it could be rightly said was silent and deadly.

* * *

In the noisy courtyard of one of the many taverns that dotted every corner of Tortuga, the captain of the _Black Pearl_was on a mission. Jack Sparrow knew the impossibility of the deal he had made with Jones. 100 souls in three days wasn't possible, ever for him. Still, he had always tried doing the impossible, before trying anything else, so at than at least that course of action had been explored. Thusly, he had decided that maybe trying to harvest some souls might not be a bad place to start, unless something better happened to come along.

He had also hoped to soften up his wife, but she was proving to be as cold as an iceberg. She hadn't spoken two words to him, despite his numerous attempts. He had finally given up. It was a hopeless case when Marie was this angry.

Gibbs was seated a few feet from where Marie and Jack were sitting. He was in the process of interviewing potential candidates for the crew, at least that's what it was supposed to seem like.

He asked every person the same question. "And what makes you think you're worthy to crew the _Black Pearl_?"

And every answer was a study in inadequacy. "Truth be told, I never sailed a day in me life." said the first man, who appeared to be older than Moses. "I figger I should get out an' see the world while I'm still young."

Marie, who was taking a drink of rum, choked, whether from laughter or disbelief, Jack couldn't tell.

Any answer, however, was good enough for Gibbs. "You'll do, make your mark."

The next person in line stepped forward. "My wife run off with my dog." He said, sullenly, "And I don't give a ass rat's if I live or die."

"Perfect." Replied Gibbs, gaily.

"Me have one arm and a bum leg." Said the next person.

"It's the crow's nest for you." Said Gibbs, helpfully.

Jack, meanwhile, finding no particular interest in the exchange between the potential recruits and Gibbs, had turned his attention to the compass. It still was acting strangely, pointing in every direction except for the one which would show him what he wanted most. "I know what I want, I know what I want, I know what I want." He repeated over and over, as if saying it multiple times would somehow make it true. Unfortunately, it made very little difference. The compass still spun wildly in all directions for a few seconds, before finally seeming to come to a hesitant stop on Marie. Jack looked up to stare at her, but she deliberately avoided his gaze. He glanced down at the compass; sure enough, it was still pointed at her. What was this supposed to mean? Did he want Marie most of all? No, he realized suddenly. What he wanted most was to set things right with her. Jack sighed tiredly. Why did he always have to make the first move?

Gibbs continued on with his recruiting efforts. The last one in the line came forward and said with eagerness, "Ever since I was a little lad, I always wanted to sail the seas, forever."

"Sooner than you think. Sign the roster."

"Thanks very much."

Hoping to get his mind off of the riddle that the compass was presenting to him, Jack asked, "How we coming?"

"Including those four, that gives us, four."

"Oh, four." Said Marie, speaking for the first time in a complete sentence that evening, "That's a wonderful start. If we have four every night, we'll meet Jones' quota in, oh say, a month, perhaps. Of course, that's a little past your deadline." She stabbed Jack with a glare and said coldly. "And, you have already given them one soul, so you don't have to worry about that."

Jack opened his mouth to defend himself against the accusation, but even if he could have come up with a good defense (which was doubtful), Marie didn't seem interested in hearing it. She immediately averted her gaze again and refused to look at him. Jack looked back at the compass, which had started to spin wildly once more. He closed with frustration. Maybe Marie was right. Maybe he should have a compass that just pointed north; at least that something like that would never drive him to madness.

Another recruit had shown up at the table. Turning his attention to him, Gibbs asked, "And what's your story?" he had expected another pathetic recital. But instead, he received an answer that was completely unexpected.

"My story?" The man mockingly repeated. "It's exactly the same as your story only one chapter behind."

Marie choked on her rum for the second time this evening, only this time it was in complete shock when she heard the voice. She recognized that commanding baritone, though she remembered it being more clipped and military. She took a closer look at the man that was standing in front of Gibbs' table. He was tall and well-built, with shoulder length brown hair, a face with finely chiseled features and blue-grey eyes that Marie always remembered as having a veil over them. But they were now windows into his soul, revealing raw emotion that was beyond anything she had ever seen in him.

He continued, unmindful of Marie's thoughts. "I chased a man across the seven seas. The pursuit cost me my crew, my commission and my life." The anguish in his voice was subtle, but obvious. He grabbed the bottle of rum that was on top of Gibbs' table and took a long drink.

It was only when his face hit the light that Gibbs recognized the potential recruit. "Commodore?" he asked, in disbelieving shock.

"No, not anymore; weren't you listening?" hissed Norrington, venomously.

Marie openly gaped at James Norrington, a man who had always been in the periphery of the life of her past. She had never known him well, but even in her limited experience, she had never known him to be like this.

She turned to look at Jack, to see what his reaction was, or if he even recognized the disgraced Commodore, but she was surprised to see that he had disappeared, or so it appeared. When she saw him trying to quietly towards the exit, hiding, or attempting to hide, behind a frond that he had plucked from a nearby plant. Marie found herself a little skeptical. Surely he didn't think that would work.

Norrington leaned forward on Gibbs' table and continued his story. "I nearly had you all. And I might have taken you, had it not been for the hurricane."

"Lord," breathed Gibbs, astonished, "you didn't try to sail through it?"

Marie thought that she saw Norrington stiffen, as if he had been reminded of some painful memory. "So, do I make your crew or not?" he growled softly, choosing to ignore the question, ""You haven't said where your going? Somewhere nice!" With sudden violence, he heaved the table over. It fell to the floor with a great crash and instantly brought a stop to the rush of activity that had been whirling around them. Everyone turned to star at the source of the commotion. They all seemed quite stunned by this unexpected interruption.

Norrington didn't seem to be aware of how much the attention was so wholly focused on him. "So, am I worthy to serve under Captain Jack Sparrow?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm, harsh and biting. There was an undercurrent of danger in his voice. Marie recognized in Norrington a man who was utterly unaware of the odds against him. In short, he was drunk. This was the greatest surprise of all to her. Norrington had always been a man of moderation in everything. She had never even thought that he was capable of getting drunk.

Either way, Norrington wouldn't have cared about Marie's thoughts on the subject in his particular frame of mind. Suddenly, he drew his pistol and aimed it straight at a walking palm frond that was making its way across the room. "Or should I just kill you now?"

Jack eased his head out from behind the frond, only to see that Norrington was aiming his pistol straight at him. He tried shifting positions from the left to the right, only to see that Norrington's pistol had followed him. Seeing no other alternative, he said, "You're hired."

But that didn't pacify Norrington. He was itching for a fight, from any quarter and he had just snapped. "Sorry," he replied, smiling in a slightly insane manner, "old habits, and all that."

He was just about to pull the trigger when he was suddenly accosted by two of the new recruits that had signed up that evening.

"Easy, sailor."

"That's our captain you're threatening."

Their efforts met with only partial success, for though they managed to prevent Norrington from shooting Jack, they weren't able to prevent him from shooting the pistol altogether. The bullet zinged upwards, ricocheted off the chandelier and shattered the bottle of rum that a pirate across the room had been enjoying. Promptly, the pirate turned to the person next to him and belted him across the mouth. That was as good an excuse as any for the whole room to explode in an all-out brawl. Immediately swords were ringing, pistols were firing and pirates were trying to beat each other to smithereens, all in good fun, of course.

Amidst the sudden noise and chaos, nobody seemed to take any notice of Jack, Gibbs and Marie. Jack stuffed the now unnecessary palm frond into a nearby barrel (not that it had ever been of much use in the first place), and called to Gibbs and Marie. "Time to go?"

"Aye," replied Gibbs to the obvious question and regardless of whatever disagreements were between Marie and Jack at that particular moment, she was in complete agreement with Jack on this point.

Scooting through, around and in-between fights, Marie, Jack and Gibbs, in their own typical bizarre form of luck managed to slip out of the tavern's courtyard unnoticed and unscathed; and no sooner had they exited than a new person made it's appearance on the scene. Elizabeth pushed her way through the crowd, only to be confronted by James at the center of the brawl, fighting his way brutally out of every person who came in his direction. He didn't even seem to be wasting any effort and was unaware of the imminent danger that he was in.

Quickly, Elizabeth drew her own sword and went at it alongside him, drawing away pirates who could very well have sneaked up on James' back whole he was to preoccupied to notice. The two of them were a challenging competition, but they were only two against a whole roomful of opponents, who were quickly figuring out who was responsible for starting all of this in the first place.

At last, the fight boiled down to the two of the. Elizabeth found that they were surrounded by dozens of pirates. All of them surrounded by dozens of pirates, all of them with weapons drawn, all those weapons pointed straight at them.

But, even now, James seemed completely unaware that he was in serious trouble. "Come on, then, who wants it?" He shouted loudly, waving his sword wildly, "Form an orderly line; I'll have you all one by one."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes in despair. There could be no dissuading James that was clear. He couldn't see that every one of the pirates was more than willing to take up his challenge. She had only one option. "Sorry, James." She thought, as she grabbed the bottle of rum he was holding and shattered it over his head. James dropped like a stone, out cold.

The pirates, before menacing, became suddenly puzzled. "I just wanted the pleasure of doing that myself." She said, with a great deal of bravado.

It was the right approach. A cheer rose from the pirates, and mugs were raised in the air, congratulating the young lad for his pluck and daring.

A few minutes later, the pirates were dealing out their own form of punishment to the half-conscious Norrington. They pitched him bodily into the mud and the pigs laughing and joking amongst themselves, as to the evenings' happenings. One solitary figure among them was silent in the mockery of the humiliated James Norrington. Elizabeth Swann quietly approached him, lying in the mud amidst the squealing pigs kneeling down to help him to his feet. She said, in a mildly chiding voice. "James Norrington, what have you done to yourself?"

"Nothing I didn't deserve, I'm sure." He replied. Groaning slightly, he shut up. "Are you all right?" asked Elizabeth.

"Well enough, I suppose."

Elizabeth shook her head, "What happened? One moment you're there, drinking your third glass of rum, the next you're gone. Then, I find you In the middle of a tavern brawl, drunk, no less?"

"As I recall, you told me to try and fit in. getting drunk and brawling seem a common past time for pirates as I recall."

"Yes, but James, I didn't mean for you to take it to excess. You normally show more restraint."

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, the environment that we're in is not exactly conducive to showing restraint." James snapped.

"That's hardly a good excuse. You could have gotten killed. James, this is not like you."

James was about to make a sharp reply, when he stopped. Elizabeth was right, this was not like him. Even now, he felt himself a fool for allowing himself to make such an error. He had only intended to have one drink, to keep up appearances, but that one drink had served to stir up his tense brain even more. That had led to more drinks to try and calm his nerves. Eventually, all he had been able to think of was Emma and the feelings of old rage that being here in Tortuga had brought to the surface. When he had heard the name of Jack Sparrow, his mind, by that time buzzing with alcohol, had somehow latched all of his troubles upon the pirate captain. He had gone in search of Jack, and this was the end result. Elizabeth was right; he had no one to blame but himself.

"I'm sorry." He said, after a moment, "It's this place. It's bringing back a lot of unpleasant memories."

Elizabeth's face softened and she laid a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry; we'll soon be gone once we find out where Jack is."

James groaned once more. Elizabeth looked at him. "What's the matter?"

"I just saw Jack Sparrow."

"You did?" cried Elizabeth, eagerly, "Where? When? Why didn't you say so, sooner?"

"Just in there. I-I tried to shoot him. Strange, I don't seem to remember why. The point is I doubt that I'm the first person he would want to see."

"Don't worry." Said Elizabeth, "Jack is very forgiving about this sort of thing."

"How do you know?"

"Because I burned his rum." Now it was James' turn to look at her in confusion. "It's a long story. But come in, we have to find him."

Elizabeth began to lead James away from the tavern, toward the docks. Neither one of them knew that their entire conversation had been overheard by a deadly enemy. Mercer, the knife of Beckett, watched them as they disappeared around a corner. The look on his face was utterly chilling. His job would be easier to accomplish than he had first imagined. Slipping away from his hiding place, he began to follow them silently through the streets of Tortuga.

* * *

Hope that everyone liked this chapter. Things are really starting to come together for this story. The next chapter will be up soon. Until then, read and review.

Next chapter: Promises are made and bargains are struck. A truce is declared between one couple, while for another, the trouble is only just about to begin.


	28. Chapter 28: Promises and Bargains

Hey there, everyone. Just a little announcement before this chapter begins. With the posting of the last chapter, this story officially received over 100 reviews. This is the first of my stories to do this and I am very excited that so many people enjoy my writing. Thanks for all who have reviewed; it really means a whole lot.

Chapter 28: Promises and Bargains

Jack, Marie and Gibbs had managed to worm their way out of yet another sticky situation. But that was not yet enough to satisfy Jack. As they moved through the noisy streets of Tortuga, he told Gibbs, "The turn-out for new recruits wasn't what I was hopin' it would be."

"Well, it was only one tavern."

"That's true. But I still think we can do better. We've still got some recruitin' to do. Onto another pub, Gibbs, the night's still young. And there must be any number of desperate sailors on this island lookin' to serve under the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow. Try puttin' a different spin on your tactics."

"What do you mean?" asked Gibbs.

"You know, embellish the facts, make 'em see how much their fortunes will improve by signin' on."

Marie, who had been walking a little ways ahead of them turned her piercing gaze on Jack. "And as always happens with the legendary Jack Sparrow, he'll promptly turn them over to someone else to save his own skin. You might not want to include that little detail in your speech, Gibbs."

Before Gibbs could reply, Jack spoke up. "Wait a minute, what you mean by it always happens?"

"I mean, Jack that the only thing you should be legendary for is betraying people to the worst possible fate without even considering the consequences."

Jack could understand why Marie was so upset, but he was quite frankly getting sick of her attitude. "Look, Marie, if you've got somthin' to say, just say it."

"Why should I say it when you already know what it is?"

"Because this is not like you. You've never been one to keep your thoughts to yourself, but for the past few months you've been doin' just that. If it's Will that you're worried about-"

"It is Will that I'm worried about. Don't I have right to be? You betrayed him to a fate worse than death."

"Marie, he'll be fine."

Marie finally snapped. "Don't tell me that he'll be fine! Don't tell me that. I don't want him to become like my father."

Jack was stunned when he heard this. "Your father?" He hadn't known that she had known. He had told her that night about his debt to Davy Jones and his possible fate. But he had told her nothing about the messenger who had informed him of the fact. He hadn't been aware that that night, she had seen everything.

Marie knew that she was found out. But she suddenly had no more energy to argue anymore. She sat down heavily on a barrel in the alleyway and rubbed her forehead tiredly. When had her life become so complicated?

Jack knew that he to tale the advantage of this moment; it could very well be the only one that he got. "Uh, Mr. Gibbs, why don't you go see how the supplies are comin' along."

Gibbs stared at Jack blankly. "The supplies?"

Jack turned to him, a bit annoyed. "Yes, the supplies, check on them. Go. Now."

Gibbs finally got the idea. "Oh, uh, right."

Gibbs scurried off, leaving the two of them alone. Jack went over to Marie and sat down beside her. He scrutinized her closely before saying, "So, you saw him that night, did you." It was a statement, not a question.

Marie nodded. "I suppose that it's pointless to talk to you about eavesdropping."

"I learned it from you, Jack. I've learned a lot of things from you."

"So what do you want to tell me? Something's troubling you. I can tell. A lot of things."

"Where can I start?" said Marie, "The best place to start that I can see is why didn't you tell me about your deal with Davy Jones?"

Jack was silent, before finally replying, "I suppose that I didn't know how you would react. I was young, comin' off a rather hard time. I was desperate. I was willin' to do anything to be the captain of my own ship again."

"So you struck a deal with the devil? Thirteen years for on hundred?"

"I was too eager to consider that consequences. It is foolish when I look back on it now. You may be right about me. I don't always consider the consequences, but then, neither do you sometimes."

"I draw the line at involving the people that I care deeply for in those consequences. My father might still be human, but I saw those creatures that make up Jones' crew. They're more monster then men now, without conscience or scruple and their Captain…" She shuddered, unable to bring herself to speak of him, "I can't bare the idea that Will might become like that. And I can't get over the fact that my father will become like that." She eyes turned to stare at him, "Jack, can you not understand that?"

"Marie," said Jack, softly, "I am sorry."

"Sorry can't bring him back. After he declared the deal done, you just gave up."

"That's because he threatened you." Said Jack, with a sudden conviction. "I can see your side, Marie, but look at it once from my perspective. Okay, I admit that I betrayed Will and I admit that it wasn't the smartest thing to do. But I would have tried much more to get him back, but when he threatened you, nothing else mattered. I was only worried about your safety. Now he knows you my wife, you could be in the same danger that I'm in."

This was a side of Jack that not many people saw, or even knew existed. This serous, heartfelt side that he didn't even show Marie all that often. But, it was when he was like this that you could be sure he wasn't lying.

And Marie could understand, at least a little of Jack's intentions, and though she could completely forgive him, maybe she could start too.

Seeing that she was beginning to soften, he laid a hand on her shoulder and said, almost tenderly. "I was only tryin' to protect you."

"But Jack, that's not what I want." She stood up and faced him. She could begin to forgive him, but he had to understand what had truly been bothering her for the past few months, to which Will's capture had been only the latest, albeit the most serious, in a long line of events. "I want you to trust me. You told me nothing about what you had done. I could care less when you made your deal with Jones or why you did it. What do I care about is that you didn't tell me about it. Jack, for the past few months I feel like I have been married to a stranger. The way you've been acting, the way you've shut me out, that's what's really been bothering me. If you had told me everything, perhaps it wouldn't have come to this. We could have worked something out together. I even began feeling that you didn't love me anymore."

"Marie, that's not true at all. I promise you that. I have probably not handled this in the best way, but I only wanted to make sure that it didn't involve you. It's not your fight."

Marie smiled sadly. "Now, it is, jack. I'm not going to stand by and let Jones claim you. I'm going to help you, whether you want me to or not."

Jack looked at her closely, still a bit unsure as to whether or not she was serious. "You man that?" She nodded, "And I suppose that it's useless to try and talk you out of it?" She nodded again. "I thought so. To be quite honest, I've missed your input."

Marie managed a small laugh. "Finally, you admit it."

Jack was just glad to hear Marie laughing again. He didn't care that he had no snappy come back. Something he was beginning to learn about marriage was that there didn't always have to be a battle of wits to make it work. In fact, it was probably for the best that they had a serious discussion like this at least once every few weeks, however unpleasant it might be.

Marie took one of his hands, and looked into his face, a note of pleading in her voice. "Promise me that you won't keep something like this again."

Jack was silent for a moment. He loved this women, it was not just her beauty that had attracted him, or her wit or intelligence, though those traits were definitely part of it. It was more that part of which was vulnerable, where she kept her deepest secrets, the part of her that only he saw. And the only reason for that was because she trusted him. Such a privilege he may have once taken for granted, but he saw now that it was the greatest treasure that he could ever hope to find. He had come so close to losing it, that he didn't want to let it go again.

"I promise, Marie, I promise." But even as Marie looked relieved, she didn't know that he also promised something else to himself that night. He promised himself that he wouldn't allow himself to risk losing Marie again. Whatever it took, however far this went, he wouldn't let himself to lose the treasure that he had found so unexpectedly the year before, but which had made him richer beyond his wildest dreams.

* * *

Mercer had dogged Elizabeth and James the entire way to the docks, taking care that he was not seen by them until the time was right. He actually needed to show himself to Norrington only. If he played his cards right, then the trap would soon be closing around the unsuspecting Commodore.

Elizabeth was surveying the multiple ships that floated by the docks, trying to see which one was the _Pearl_. "I'm going to try and find which dock the _Pearl_ is moored at. Stay here, and don't get lost."

James acknowledged this with noncommittal grunt. He was in no mood to argue. Once she had left hi alone, he closed his eye and sighed. He had not felt this miserable in a long time.

"Good evening, Commodore."

James jumped at the unexpected voice, cursing himself inwardly for not being better aware of his surroundings, especially in such a place as this. "Who's there?" he called out, his hand moving to his sword.

The shadows in front of him rippled and moved, and to his utter shock, Mercer materialized in front of him. The event was so unexpected, all he could mange to say was, "You?"

Mercer showed no reaction to James' surprise. He looked him up and down with a critical and slightly contemptuous eye. "A man of your position should take better care of his appearance. Here, you could be mistaken for nothing more than a common pirate."

James stiffened and struggled against the anger that straining to be let loose. "Why are you here? I expect you want something more than to insult me."

Mercer, unlike his employer, who enjoyed spinning out the suffering of his victims with complex word games, was one to come straight to the point in matters such as this. "Lord Beckett sent me."

James snorted in derision. "Beckett? I want nothing to do with him."

"You're a wanted man, Commodore. You might very well have to do something with him if you want your position back."

James stepped forward and said tightly, "I have no interest in getting my rank back through him. If I have to lose my rank because of this, it will be a small price to pay. You may tell that to him on your return."

He turned away from Mercer and began to walk away, but Mercer stopped him in his tracks with his next phrase. "And would you have your wife pay that price for you?"

James stopped. He turned very slowly, his face showing concern at the mention of his wife. "Emma? What has she got to do with any of this?"

"Beckett has put her under house arrest, pending imprisonment."

"What on earth for? She knew nothing of this. She is innocent."

"It didn't matter whether or not she knew. She is your wife; that is enough to put over her the stain of suspicion."

"Guilty by association, is it then? Is that Beckett's plan to get power? Imprisoning anyone who stands in his way? The authorities in England would never agree to that."

"Don't be so sure, Commodore. Lord Beckett was given the task of destroying piracy in the Caribbean and whatever means he uses to achieve that goal will be sanctioned and supported by the Crown."

"And the murder of an innocent woman would help to accomplish that?"

"Nobody said anything about murder. But, whether or not she is released from her captivity rests entirely with you."

"With me?" questioned James, somewhat skeptically.

"Lord Beckett sent me here to find you and make you an offer should you choose to hear it."

James hesitated. It was clearly a challenge: would he allow himself to hear the offer of a man that he hated for the sake of Emma's safety, or should he just walk away and assume that Mercer was simply bluffing? He loathed the idea of playing Beckett's game, but than again, with Emma, he simply could not take the risk.

"Go on."

Mercer showed only the barest hint of satisfaction that he had caused James to cave this far. "As you know, Lord Beckett sent William Turner to get the compass owned by Jack Sparrow. Now, he is willing to give you that offer. In exchange, he will guarantee both your own and your wife's safety."

"And what becomes of Mr. Turner and his fiancée?" said James, catching the loophole almost at once.

Mercer shrugged, as if they were of no consequence. "Another arrangement has been made for them."

"One that leaves them alive or leaves them hanging from a noose?"

Mercer's face twisted itself into a snarl. "Don't concern yourselves with them. Be concerned with Mrs. Norrington's fate."

"I will not sacrifice my principals." Said James, wishing that he could feel as sure as he sounded, for the truth was, doubt was beginning to gnaw at him. "To trade my own freedom and hers for the lives of those we hold dear. It is not how Emma would have to be saved from death, even if she were never to find out."

"Who said anything about her dying?" questioned Mercer, preparing to close the trap around James. "I was referring to her coming into a very different fate."

"What do you mean?"

"Lord Beckett has other plans for your wife. He's made it clear that he intends to see to it that she is safe from any danger, by any means possible."

James was utterly appalled by the unspoken suggestion. For a few seconds, the weight of this horrifying threat made him unable to speak. "He means to marry her?" he could hardly bring himself to say the words, so sickening was the idea.

Mercer nodded. "He seems to have a great deal of affection for her, though I cannot tell why. She is not at all attractive, and has nothing in the way of sense."

That did it. James snapped. He grabbed Mercer by the shirt collar and pulled him forward to that their faces were mere inches apart. "She would never agree to that." He spat, with gritted teeth.

"Don't be too sure." Was Mercer's all too calm reply.

James was shaking with frustrated rage. Why did he feel this strange sense of uncertainty? Why did he feel that that uncertainty came from the fact that Mercer didn't look at all like he was bluffing?

"If you are lying?" asked Mercer, "You have everything to lose?"

James let go of Mercer. He was still angry, but angry at himself, angry because he felt himself starting to consider the offer. The very thought of Emma, the woman he loved above all else in this world, being forced to find protection in the arms of Beckett was almost more than he could bear to imagine. He had once vowed that he would never allow ay harm to come to her, no matter what he would have to sacrifice. To keep that promise, he had never thought that he would have to risk so much.

Mercer could see that While Norrington was torn, he was also beginning to weaken. It was just as Beckett had predicted: even drop a hint that Emma Norrington might be in danger and this man, who followed her like a devoted lapdog, would be sure to stumble into the trap that had been set for him.

Mercer allowed a few moments of silence elapse, so that he could let the horror of what he had just said fully sink in, before he said. "You have two weeks, Commodore. Than I fear it will be out of your hands."

"Two weeks? What can I possibly accomplish in two weeks?" James blurted out, before he caught himself and added, "I haven't even agreed to it."

Mercer smiled and the look made his blood run cold. It was the same smile he had seen on Mercer's face when the assassin had killed Captain Hawkins, the same smile he had seen when he had been toying with the Governor. It was the smile of a predator who had ensnared his prey. "Is there anything that you want me to pass along to Lord Beckett?"

"Tell him…"said James, slowly, as if each word were painful for him to pronounce. "Tell him, I shall consider it." but he and Mercer both knew that James was defeated.

Mercer, still smiling, turned and began to vanish back into the shadows from where he had come. However, he turned back to deliver one last chilling reminder to James. "Two weeks, Commodore, two weeks." Then, Mercer slipped into the shadows, and was swallowed up by the darkness.

James stood frozen to the spot, to numb to even feel or think what he had done. He couldn't determine if it was right or wrong. He couldn't tell if this was the right course which would ensure Emma's safety. He didn't know if he had even been lied to or not. All he could think was that, in one awful moment, he had made a deal with the devil.

"James."

James, so lost in what had just happened that he hadn't noticed Elizabeth's approach, jumped and whirled around, his hand half to his sword.

Elizabeth took an instinctive step back, "James, calm down, it's me."

"Sorry," said James, "I guess that I'm still on edge."

"Yes, I suppose you are." She looked at him closely. "James, are you all right? You look pale?"

"I-" James was half-tempted to tell her what had just occurred. But worry for Emma won out over the concern for what Elizabeth may have thought. "I just will be anxious to get away from this place."

Elizabeth continued staring at him, not sure if she believed him entirely. But she finally decided to let it rest. "The _Black Pearl_ is moored over there." She said, pointing to the majestic black ship. "Come on, I think it's time that we pain Jack a visit."

* * *

Read and review, as always. Even if there are a hundred, a writer can never have too much praise.

Next chapter: Elizabeth crosses paths with Marie and Jack, and a new heading is at last reached when the compass finally starts working for someone. And we also get a hint that trouble is brewing when we see the strong emotions which lurk behind the normally reserved mask of a certain former Commodore.


	29. Chapter 29: We Have Our Heading

Chapter 28: We Have Our Heading

As Captain Jack Sparrow and Marie approached the _Black Pearl_, they didn't notice at first that they were being followed, at least, not until a youthful voice called out behind them. "Captain Sparrow?"

Jack turned to catch sight of a young man, who looked just out of boyhood approaching them. "Come to join me, lad, welcome aboard." He called out blithely. He was always in need of new crewmembers, now more than usual. The lad looked strong enough, and he was sure that they could find a place for him.

But joining Jack's crew wasn't exactly what this "lad" had in mind. "I'm here to find the man I love."

Both Jack and Marie stopped in their tracks when they heard this. They looked at each other, in blank astonishment before Jack said, rather uncomfortably, "I'm deeply flattered sun, but I have very few loves and one of the first among them is the sea." He gestured to Gibbs to find some way to get the boy of their presence.

"And in came you didn't know," said Marie, looking back at the boy, "he's already spoken f-" she stopped mid-sentence when she saw that the "boy" was none other than Elizabeth Swann. "Elizabeth!" she cried joyfully, as she flung her arms around her old friend.

Elizabeth laughed and returned the hug. "Oh, Marie, it's so good to see you." She then looked back at Jack. "I meant William Turner, Captain Sparrow. Don't get your hoped up."

Once he had seen that this was indeed Elizabeth, jack turned quickly to Gibbs and said, in a slightly anxious whisper, "Hide the rum." While Gibbs scurried to do obey, jack turned once more to Elizabeth; he greeted her with, "You know, these clothes do not flatter you at all. It should be a dress or nothing. I happen to have no dress in my cab-ow!"

The "ow" had come from the fact that Marie had elbowed Jack none to gently in the rib cage. She knew that Jack meant no harm, but still it never hurt to be sure.

Jack looked at her with a slightly hurt expression. "Now, come on, luv, what was that for?"

"Guess." She challenged.

"Jack," said Elizabeth, cutting into their little game. She had come to ask a question and she intended to get the answer. "I know Will came to find you. Where is he?"

Jack looked at Marie, hoping to get some help. But the look on her face made it cleat that while she had forgiven him, she hadn't done so completely. He was on his own for this. Turning back to Elizabeth, he offered the best thing he could come up with. "Darlin', I am truly sorry to have to tell you this, but through an unfortunate and entirely unforeseeable series of circumstances that have nothing whatsoever to do with me, poor Will has been press-ganged into Davy Jones crew.:

Marie raised her eyebrows and looked at Elizabeth, wondering if she would believe such an obvious lie, but Elizabeth seemed more confused by the strange name than by the complete accuracy of Jack's story. "Davy Jones?" she repeated, slightly uncertain.

Jack nodded, looking appropriately remorseful, but before he could reply, another voice joined the conversation, a decidedly familiar, not to mention slightly sour voice. "Oh, please, the captain of the _Flying Dutchman_"

Marie and Jack hadn't noticed that James Norrington was with Elizabeth until he had spoken. He was covered with mud and looked to be working off the effects of a severe hangover. He didn't seem to be exactly thrilled to be where he was.

That was probably best, because Jack wasn't really all that ecstatic to be seeing him again. "You look bloody awful. What are you doing here?"

"You hired me." Norrington reminded him, sullenly, "I can't help it if your standards are lax."

"You smell funny." Retorted Jack.

"Jack," said Elizabeth, as if reminding him of her presence and to keep the two of them from continuing to trade insults that could turn ugly later on. "All I want is to find Will."

"I know." said Jack, half-under his breath, as he thought of what he could say to Elizabeth that would comfort her, but at the same time, take any attention away from himself. But then, he suddenly looked back at her, a renewed interest in his eyes. "Are you certain?" he asked, with a new intensity which he had not shown hitherto in the conversation. "Is that what you really want most?"

Elizabeth looked at Jack in mild confusion. "Of course."

Marie instantly could see what Jack was driving at; if Elizabeth wanted to find Will, than Jack would somehow be able to use that to his own advantage, but there was gain in it for her, as well. Elizabeth would certainly be able to find and save Will if she could. Marie would be able to stop worrying about him and being made at Jack, and Elizabeth and Jack could finally be together. It might require a bit of, as Jack called it, a slight exaggeration of the truth. But she was willing to take it that far, if they could get results.

Jack, seeing that Marie seemed to have picked up on his plan, and was willing to go along with it, took Elizabeth by the arm and led her a little way off. "Because, I would think that you would want to find a way to save Will most."

"And you would have a way of doing that?" asked Elizabeth, rather skeptically.

"Well," said Jack, "there is a chest."

"Oh, dear." Said Norrington despairingly from the side.

Jack case him a look, and was about to retort when Marie stepped into the gap. "A chest of unknown size and origin." She glanced at Jack warningly. They had to concentrate on Elizabeth.

Pintel and Ragetti passed through the conversation, carrying a crate of rum between them. Pintel and Ragetti, having heard only a fraction of the previous phrases, found it necessary to point out, "Wha' contains the still beatin' heart of Davy Jones."

Ragetti mimed taking his own heart from his chest, beating it right under Elizabeth's nose. Elizabeth, a little surprised at first to be seeing those two again, was momentarily lost for words which allowed Jack to return to the topic at hand. "And whoever possesses that chest, possesses the leverage to command Jones to do whatever it is that he or she wants, including saving brave William from his grim fate."

Norrington had approached them while they had been talking, and though it was clear that Elizabeth was beginning to be swayed, he still did not believe a word of it. "You don't actually believe him, do you?"

Jack looked at Elizabeth, a surprisingly expression on his face. Marie, too, looked like she wasn't lying, and she even said, "What would either of us possibly have to gain from lying?"

Elizabeth considered this for a moment, before asking, "How do we find it?"

"That was the sign that Jack had been waiting for. Elizabeth was ready to listen still further. "With this," he said, holding up the compass, "my compass is unique."

"Unique here having the meaning of broken." Muttered Norrington.

Marie looked at him sharply. She was becoming rather annoyed with his constant interruptions. "Not necessarily, and do be quiet before I cut your tongue out."

"He is right in a sense, luv. You must remember that this compass doesn't work the way an ordinary one does." He turned back to Elizabeth. "You see, Elizabeth, this compass does not point north."

Elizabeth had to admit that she was curious, despite her better judgment. "Where does it point?"

"It points to the thing that you want most in this world." Said Jack, in his most flattering voice, though it was clear from the look that he threw in Marie's direction who the compliment was really intended for.

"Oh, Jack," asked Elizabeth, "are you telling the truth?"

"Every word, luv." Answered Jack, sincerely. He placed the compass in Elizabeth's hands, he continued, "And what you want most in this world is to find the chest of Davy Jones, is it not?"

"To save Will." Corrected Will.

"But, Elizabeth, there is only way to save Will." Said Marie.

Jack finished Marie's line of thought, "By finding the chest of Davy Jones."

Having skillfully twisted Elizabeth's true desire into that thought, Jack eased open the compass and immediately backed away. If this worked, he had no intention of going anywhere near the compass for awhile.

Elizabeth looked down at the compass. The needle spun wildly for a few seconds, as if getting used to a new holder whose desires weren't constantly flying in every direction at once, before finally holding steady in the direction of the southwest.

Jack, after a few seconds, eased his face over Elizabeth's arm and peeked at the compass. "Mr. Gibbs?"

"Cap'n?"

"We have our heading." Declared Jack, rather pleased.

"Finally." Said Gibbs, visibly relieved. Turning back to the ship, he began shouting orders. "On deck, all hands, weigh anchor and crow that canvas."

A bustling of voices and crew suddenly began around them, as they _Black Pearl_ prepared to leave Tortuga. Jack was elated: they had a heading, Marie was talking to him again, and best of all, he finally had some sort of long-term plan for the future. Things were beginning to look up, at last.

"Miss Swann." He said, grandly gesturing up the gangplank.

Elizabeth, smiling, took the invitation as gracefully as a lady. As Marie passed her husband, Jack winked at her gleefully, and she smiled in a way that only would be able to understand. Flashing his trademark grin, Jack bounded up the gangplank after her.

They all seemed to have forgotten, who was about to follow when Pintel shoved a goat into his arms and said, with a cackling sneer. "Welcome to the crew, former Commodore." This insult and the resultant mocking laughter of the crew around James Norrington made it clear that the pirates were delighting in seeing their former enemy brought so low.

Had Elizabeth, Marie or Jack seen this, had any of them seen the sudden, intense flare of rage in James' eyes, they might have considered quelling the joke. And had they known what had happened to him and what he was now thinking of doing, they might not have been so open in their speech regarding the chest and the compass, for they had revealed too much to a desperate man, and that could only lead to trouble.

But since none of them had seen or were aware of this, they had no way of preventing everything that was to come.

* * *

That night, Marie Sparrow would dream again. Instead of a nightmare, however, this dream would leave her with a slightly perplexed feeling about what her future might be.

She found herself standing on the deck of a vessel which she was sure she had never seen before in her life. The ship was slightly smaller the _Black Pearl_, more maneuverable and delicate, with strange aquamarine sails. But the strangest thing of all was that there was not a breath of wind to be felt, and yet the ship seemed to be moving and skipping over the waves as gracefully as a bird.

She was also sensed that she was somehow connected with this ship. Jack had often told her that he and the _Pearl_ were like one creature, each of them almost sensing the move that the other was going to make before that move was made. She had yet to understand the fully intimacy of that connection, though there had been times when she thought that she was close to sensing it. But here, on this ship, she felt that she could understand what it meant to be truly at one with a ship like this.

Still, however, there were man questions about this dream that she couldn't answer. If this was a dream, it mirrored real life closer than she had ever experienced in her dreams. And why should she dream of something like this at all? What did mean? And where on earth was she in the first place?

Suddenly, she found that she was not alone. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Startled, Marie turned and saw someone that she had never seen in a long time, and that she had sometimes thought she would never see again. "Ana Maria?"

Ana Maria stood there before her, smiling in an odd way. "And smooth. You could sail her right through a storm, and with the right person at the wheel, you wouldn't feel a thing."

Marie, though she was slightly confused by the situation, still believed for the most part that she was simply dreaming, so she was able to get over her shock at seeing Ana Maria fairly quickly. "Ana Maria, where am I?"

The queer smile on Ana Maria's face seemed to grow wider. "Where you want to be, Marie; The past, the present, the future, all together as one."

Marie had no idea what Ana Maria had just said, but before she could ask, she heard this sound of singing coming from behind her. She craned her head around, confused still more by the sound she was hearing. The singer was obviously very gifted, for the song was melodious and beautiful. Marie had no talent for singing, and a year of listening to raucous pirate verses sung in very off-key voices in taverns and ale houses, had probably not helped. But even she knew a good voice when she heard one.

But more than the voice, it was the person who was actually singing that caused her the greatest surprise. For it was Emma was singing, Emma, who had always been the first one to observe the rules of society, who was now wearing shirt and men's breeches, standing on the deck of a swaying ship with a sword at her side, singing as if it were the most natural thing for her to be doing.

"Don't worry." Said Ana Maria, in response to Marie's openly confused expression, "It's only Emma."

Marie was about to respond that she was perfectly aware that it was Emma, when she heard another sound, which sounded almost like a response to Emma's song. It was unlike anything that she had ever heard: a counterpoint and harmony, hypnotic and beautiful. It was like the music which the sea made, and yet strangely, more distinct, as if meant for a human ear.

This song continued for a few seconds, until Marie saw the strangest sight of all. There suddenly came a soft splash from off the side of the side of the ship and the next moment there appeared in front of Emma, a shape that resembled human form. His face was entirely without age, though his eyes seemed to tell that he was far, far older than he at first appeared. And as Marie took a step closer, she found that he was not entirely human. From his waist up he was like a man, and yet his legs were nonexistent, replaced by a tail of dark bronze scales, which glowed and sparkled in the moonlight. The sight seemed to stir something in her consciousness, an old legend that she had heard many times, and always wondered if there could be any truth behind it.

"Ana, is that…? Is he…?"

Ana Maria continued smiling in that same enigmatic way. "Your time is coming, Marie. You have a larger part in this than you have yet to know. I only came to prepare you."

The scene before her began to slowly fade, but Marie felt that she still had so many questions that she could not possibly leave yet. But Ana Maria, Emma, and the mysterious creature of the sea vanished despite her unspoken objections. Soon, they were gone, and she was floating in peaceful oblivion. However, she heard Ana Maria's voice echoing across the chambers of her mind. "Cherish every moment that you have with him. Rest now, Marie, rest."

Marie wanted to ask what she meant, but the gift of understanding of what this dream meant would not be given to her this night. For the very second she thought of the question, it slipped from her. And Marie Sparrow fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

So, Elizabeth and James have joined up with Jack and Marie. I can promise that putting James and Jack together will be like combining a lighted match an dynamite. Also, these next few chapters will contain a good bit of AU from the original story line, so look out for a bunch of new materiel. However, this will probably the last of the tags in this story for At Worlds' End. You will simply have to wait to see happens and how it all fits together. For right now, please read and review.

Next chapter: We come back to Emma and her dangerous game with Beckett. What has she been doing and how far will this scheme go?


	30. Chapter 30:Appearences

Sorry that this has taken a bit longer to update than usual. My life has been pretty busy for the past week. Still, I hope that this will be worth the wait. We are going to catch back up with Emma in the next couple of chapters, and see how her plot to spy on Beckett is working. This chapter is kind of interesting, because it is told completely from the view of Beckett, a character who I thoroughly detest. But there is a certain amount of fun to writing in the mind-set of the bad guy, and I think that I captured Beckett pretty well. But, no more of tooting my own horn, let me know what you think of how I did.

Chapter 30: Appearances

There are some people who have the talent of never allowing anything to set them back. They, can in fact, use such circumstances to further their own ends, and they inevitably always seem to succeed. Such a person was Lord Cutler Beckett. He had indeed suffered a set-back with the escape of Elizabeth Swann and James Norrington. However, he had readjusted his plans, and now he felt that he was that much closer to accomplishing all of his hopes, only one of which was the elimination of piracy in the Caribbean.

His change of plans meant that he would have to send Mercer on a short covert operation to the pirate city of Tortuga, in order to break a deal with a certain former Commodore. Beckett had not been impressed with the seeming slowness of Turner in retrieving the compass from Jack Sparrow, and now that Miss Swann had escaped, Beckett's leverage had been severely compromised. No matter, he would simply transfer the deal to someone else, someone who had everything to lose if he failed.

He had told Mercer what was expected of him, and he had no doubt that his clerk would fulfill his instructions to the letter. Mercer had never before let him down. He was one of the few people that Beckett trusted completely.

"And how can you be sure that he will be in Tortuga?" asked Mercer, when Beckett had told him what he was to do when he got to Tortuga.

"Simple logic; Mr. Norrington would never leave Miss Swann, and I suspect that Miss Swann will begin her search for Mr. Turner in Tortuga. They have not been gone long enough to go anywhere else. I think that he will be easy enough to find once you are there. A law-abiding man such as himself will look conspicuously out of place. The ship will be leaving in an hour's time. I will expect you back in three days. Report back to me as soon you return."

"Of course, sir."

Gillette came into the room at this moment. "My lord, you have a visitor."

"Tell them to return at another time. I can't receive them."

"It's Mrs. Norrington, Lord Beckett."

That certainly caught Beckett's attention. He looked at Gillette, a smile of almost genuine pleasure coming to his lips and a renewed interest showing in his eyes. It was a look that Mercer seemed to singularly disapprove of, not that Beckett had even noticed, or would have cared if he had. "Well, why did you not say so in the first place? Show her in."

In the few seconds that Gillette had exited the room to show Emma in, Mercer came toward Beckett and asked in a low voice. "Lord Beckett, are you certain that this is wise?"

Beckett looked at his assistant (or assassin on the job he needed him to do), "I fail to see the point of that question."

"Her coming to see you here, at this time of day, doesn't that strike you as odd?"

"It strikes me as major step forward." Said Beckett, "If she cares that little about what rumors will fly if she comes here, then it can only be a matter of time before-"

Before he could finish the sentence, Emma came into the room. Beckett, upon seeing her, immediately reverted to a demeanor that was all smiles and welcome, and to be truthful, it was only partly an act. "Ah, Emma," he relished using the freedom of her first name, a privilege that always should have been rightfully his. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Lord Beckett," said Emma, almost shyly, though her pleasure at seeing him was obvious.

"Remember what I told you, Emma," said Beckett, as he approached her, "I will take no offence if you should choose to call me by my first name."

Emma regarded him with a truly surprised look, "What, here? Now?" she said, in reference to Mercer, the cartographer working away at the map and the few officers who were standing guard.

"Oh, it's all right, Emma. We're among friends; there is no need to be formal."

"I-I don't think that I can possibly go against decorum here, Lord Beckett; Though I shall try to oblige you if we are ever in more private settings."

Beckett smiled; the desire to please hadn't left Emma. It was one of the things that made her so charming, and one of the advantages of her personality that would make her suited to be his wife. But that was thinking a little too far ahead at the moment. He must now focus on being his most charming self.

"What is pleasing to you, Emma, contents me the most. If you feel that you cannot call me Cutler, than do not feel a need to force yourself."

Emma smiled, as if that one statement came as nothing short of a relief. Than, becoming serious once more, she said, "I am sorry for calling at such an unaccustomed hour. I know how much work you need to do."

"Oh, Emma, you must have discerned by now that you can see me anytime, however unaccustomed the hour might be. Was there something troubling you?"

"Well, yes, there is actually. But I am rather embarrassed to bring it up. I don't know if it's right, or even proper to ask this of you."

"Oh, please, Emma, nothing you could ask me would be improper."

"But that doesn't mean that you could grant it, does it?"

"We all have our limits, Emma. I would do almost anything for you, but there are things that my own duty forbids me to do. But that shouldn't stop you from asking anything of me. Please, what is it?"

"I have come to enquire about my father."

Beckett smiled a little at her earnest expression. "Have you really?"

"Yes, as I say, I know that I have no right too. He was caught in the act, but he is my father. It is my duty as his daughter to ask this. Please, you won't be too harsh with him?"

He might have laughed indulgently when he heard this. Emma had changed so little. She still possessed the desire the please everyone, she was still so innocent and naive, but there was also something about her, something that he could not quite put his finger on. Maybe it was an inner strength that allowed her to do things that would be frowned on by society.

"That is hardly an improper thing that for someone of your nature to be asking that. There are many who would not have even bothered to attempt it. And I do not think that you have asked in vain."

"So there is something that can be done for him?" She asked, hopefully.

"I am sure that I can do something for him, something that will be mutually beneficial for both parties should he be willing to accept it. I shall see about obtaining a meeting with him as soon as possible. And of course, I will inform you of any developments. In the meantime, I can promise you that I have no desire to harm your father, and he will come to no harm as long as he remembers himself."

Emma smiled, obviously relieved. "Thank you, Cutler; that lifts a great burden from my mind." The statement was more a cry of such passionate relief that it caused Mercer to look up from what he was doing and stare at Emma with a slightly raised eyebrow. She looked decidedly embarrassed, not only at the wording and expression of her statement, but also the fact that she had unthinkingly used his first name. "I-I should be going." She said, after a moment's pause.

"No, there's no need for that, Emma." Said Beckett, moving to intercept her before she could leave, "I should very much like it if you stayed longer."

"Would you?" said Emma, almost shyly, but he could see that there was eagerness in her manner which she tried very hard to conceal.

He could hardly contain his triumph. At last, she was becoming wholly his. "Nothing would give me greater pleasure." He said, as he kissed her hand.

She blushed, pleased but still slightly embarrassed by his attentions. "Than I shall stay, for a little while, at least."

That "little while" turned out to be a whole two hours. Beckett completely forgot about doing any work for the rest of that day, so caught up was he in her presence. Still, it was a distraction he didn't mind at all. Emma listened to him and spoke to him as she had all those years ago, as if he were the only thing in the world, the only person that she wanted to please. It was as if al the years had vanished between them. He could see the same look in her eyes; saw that same smile on her face. He had finally triumphed. She would be his again, he was certain of it. It would be only a matter of time.

It was quite possibly the best afternoon he had had in a long time. Of course, he was considering every day he spent in the Caribbean to be a triumph, especially with how well his plans were going. But there was something about a woman's presence that made even all that he accomplished so far pale in comparison. And because the woman was Emma, there was no competition whatsoever.

Beckett quite lose track of the time, and it was Emma who first noticed how long they had spent in talking. "Oh, is it nearly 4:00 already?" She cried, as she leapt up from the chair in which she had been sitting. "I must return home. I did not mean to stay so long."

Beckett smiled at her warmly. "Don't worry, Emma. I shan't tell anyone." He loved her when she was like this. The charming, eager girl, and yet with a woman's ravishing beauty to match.

Emma seemed relieved by this promise. "I did have a wonderful time. You are not short of conversation. It's so very refreshing to be listened to for a change."

"I would expect that Mr. Norrington's conversation is not to your liking."

"No, not particularly. What he talks of leaved much to desired, and the words with which he speaks are quite limited. But, you did not hear so from me."

"Of course not. Although I will say that he is a great fool to have missed out on so great a gift, when you speak, the English language sounds like poetry.

Emma blushed at the compliment and smiled in such a way that was almost enough to make his heart melt, almost. "I should be going." She said after a moment.

"Emma," he called to her, "I did want to ask you something."

"And what would that be?"

"I was wondering if you would like to dine with me at my home, three days from now."

"You mean, alone?"

"It will only be us and a few trusted servants, it will be entirely discreet, I promise you." He stepped closer and said in a lower voice, "Besides that, there is a subject of some importance that I would like to speak to you about, a subject that best suits itself to an intimate and private atmosphere."

Emma smiled a little. "Than I should be delighted to accept your invitation."

"And will you call me by my name?"

"Of course," She said, "I think that I am at the point where I could."

Beckett smiled, in response, partly out of satisfaction, partly out of genuine feeling. "Than I shall look forward to it, say 8:00."

"Perfect." She said, as she curtsied elegantly, "Until then."

"Until then." Said Beckett, returning the curtsy with an elegant bow of his own.

Once she was gone, Beckett turned to the regard Mercer, who had been casting side glances at him the whole time that Emma had been there. Beckett knew that something was grating upon Mercer's nerves. Despite the perpetual sullen expression that was always on his face, Beckett had gotten to read and recognize his clerk's moods as accurately as a book. "Is there something in Emma that you find to disapprove of, Mercer?" he asked, almost off-handedly, as he returned to his desk, to continue with his work (which was not so exciting as Emma, and yet it had to be done).

"Of course not, sire. _You_ seem to approve of her and that's all that matters."

"You have earned the right to speak, Mercer. Don't let any doubts you have about my own opinion stop you from doing so now; such trivialities have never stopped you before."

"And if I were to speak, would you listen to me?"

"That would depend on what you had to say and I do not know that yet."

Mercer, like Beckett, had learned to read his lord well. He knew that was as good as an invitation. He came to the desk where Beckett had resumed his seat, and said, point blank, "I believe that your affection for this woman is blinding you to the potential threat that she could be to your plans."

Had this statement come form anyone else, Beckett would have shot them dead the next instant. But Mercer had gained an almost supernatural immunity from Beckett's merciless plotting. The two men had a unique and subtle rapport that had taken many years to perfect and it was a mystery to everyone how they managed to do it. But, the truth behind the partnership was simple and perfectly logical. They were both two sides of the same coin, alike, but different. They were both undeniably ruthless, but both of them were pursued this ruthlessness in different ways. Beckett had his smooth words, artless graces and impeccable manners which deceived many people into being blinded to the viper which lurked behind the mask. Mercer had talent for cold-blooded murder. That similar difference was what made them such a deadly team. Respect and loyalty was also a mark of their relationship, for unlike other such partnerships, Beckett respected Mercer and Mercer was loyal to Beckett. For these reasons, they ad been successful.

But the fact that Mercer was loyal to Beckett did not always mean that he did never question his master's desicions. Now was one time when he could not keep silent. But, unfortunately for Mercer, Beckett did not always listen to him, and this time he would not hear the warning.

"Emma is _no _threat. For all her sweetness of temper and obliging ways, she is still merely a woman."

"Her sister, Miss Swann, is merely a woman. And yet she has the potential to be a threat in and of herself. She is the one who threatened your life in order to get away, and she managed to get the Letters of Mark in the process. If given the opportunity, I have no doubt that she would fight like a man, and you know from your own experience what a clever strategist she is."

Beckett looked up from his work. There was a hard set to his eyes at the mention of Elizabeth's triumph over him. "Are you suggesting that these might be qualities which Emma has in common with her sister?"

"All I am suggesting is that you be mindful of what you say. You spent the past two hours tell her of your future plans in great detail."

"She was interested. She is not like other women; she likes to know what is happening around her. What's more, she can understand it. If I am to marry, then that that is a quality which the female of my choice must have."

"And if he understands so well, how do you know that she might not use that information against you in the future?"

"Emma would never turn against me."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because," said Beckett, with startling conviction, "I know her. Emma is incapable of lying or deception. It's beyond her nature to do so. She would never dream of doing harm to anyone. She had many things to recommend her. One of those is that she will not question those that she trusts. She will not question my actions or be distracted by outside matters. She will wholly devoted to me. And above all else, that is why she must be my wife. There will no other alternative that I can accept."

Mercer curled his lip in mild distaste. He had no appetite for love, and he hated to see other men caught up in its mind-altering euphoria. And he especially hated to see it in Beckett. "What can you possibly see in her? Why do you obsess about her constantly?"

"Because she fascinated me; she always has. There is so much to her, such the perfect mix of reserve and vivaciousness, shyness and confidence, intelligence and innocence. She has them all. She is the one woman that I have ever dreamed of and no one will stand in the way of my having her." He looked significantly at Mercer. "No one." He rose slowly to his feet and stared levelly at his clerk. "You have earned the right to speak, Mercer, see to it that you do no abuse it the future." Beckett allowed a moment for his words to sink in, before asking, "Do I make myself clear?"

Mercer heard the hidden warning in Beckett's tone. He was no fool. He knew when to stop. He had said his piece, now they would see where the future led. "Perfectly, sir."

* * *

Read and review, as I hope you always do.

Next chapter: We see just how much of an act Emma was putting on, when she meets back up with Groves, and the aura of approaching danger grows ever closer.


	31. Chapter 31: Approaching Danger

Chapter 31: Approaching Danger

Emma made her way quickly from Beckett's office, looking back over her shoulder every few seconds, almost expecting that she would be followed. She did not yet think that Beckett had any reason to suspect her, but she knew very well that could change in very quickly.

Descending into the lower streets of Port Royal, she made her way to the meeting place that she and Groves had arranged. They had been meeting secretly, exchanging what information they could, always in different locations and always in the strictest concealment. Port Royal was becoming riddled with spies; it was coming to the point where Emma was not sure how long they could run the risk of being found out.

He met her, looking almost as herself. "You're late."

"I know. I was with Lord Beckett and I almost lost track of time."

"Did you learn anything?"

"Yes, more than I have yet. Beckett evidently loves speaking of his plans to an attentive audience." There was no mistaking the bitter sarcasm in her voice. "This situation gets more serious the more that I learn. I managed to catch a glimpse of some of the documents on his desk. He has warrants to arrest any member of the Royal Navy that he feels is acting below their duty. He's practically been given power of the Navy, including James. I have no doubt that if he suspects you, he will arrest you as well."

"As yet, he has no such motive. For now, he still needs to keep up at least some form of moderation. Heaven know how long that will last though. But what you have told me explains something." At Emma's confused look, Andrew explained further, "The Royal Navy is having difficulty holding onto its members. Just today alone, several of the officers and soldiers have become part of the EITC's militia. They are taking orders fro Beckett now."

"They must fear arrest," Said Emma, "and what they fate could ultimately bring. Beckett is not one to consider mercy over a hanging, even for a minor offense."

"But what is he planning to do here? He didn't come to the Caribbean simply to dismantle the entire Royal Navy."

"He told me what his plans were, to some extent and the rest I can guess. He wants to extend his power that he has in the East Indies. I think that he wants to set up a Company presence in the Caribbean, as well. He's willing to go to any lengths to do so, which is why just today, he dispatched a formal request to London."

The worried look on Groves' face deepened when he heard this. "What kind of request exactly?"

"He showed me a copy of the letter. He said that conditions in the Caribbean were far more serious than had been thought at first. Piracy, smuggling and crime are raging out of control. He said that the only way to prevent more anarchy from spreading and putting a stop to such activities at once, was if a representative were appointed, one who could make major decisions without having to wait for permission from London."

Groves stared at her, horrified by the implications of such a proposal. "He suggested himself?"

Emma nodded. "He sugar-coated it with fancy words, of course, containing it within the dire urgency of the situation in the Caribbean. The way he seemed to put it, the Caribbean would fall apart if not for his guidance."

"Have you any idea what this means? If Beckett succeeds, every obstacle in his way will be gone. He could do whatever he pleases and nobody would be able to stop him, nobody."

There followed a moment of silence as the two of them contemplated just what Beckett would do with such unlimited power. The thought was not at all encouraging.

"I wish that I could bring better news." Emma finally said.

"It is not your fault." Said Groves, "It just seems that with each passing day, any chance we have of stopping him goes beyond our reach."

"We cannot give up, Groves." Said Emma, with quiet conviction that was yet passionate in its delivery. "The very instant that we do, Beckett will truly have won. And that an outcome that I cannot and will now allow. And I do not believe that you can either."

Groves had come to admire the wife of his commander a great deal during this time. She had put herself in the most danger and he could tell that it wasn't a task that she was enjoying. And yet, she stood firm and refused to give up. Showing as much courage, if not more, than man he had ever seen, with the possible exception of her husband.

"No, Mrs. Norrington, I cannot."

"Andrew, my friends call me Emma. You are my friend now."

"Fine, Emma. If that is what you want. I'm glad that you think you can trust me enough to think me a friend. Do you know what your next move will be?"

"I am meeting him tomorrow night. I am having dinner with him at his house."

Andrew's eyes widened and he gaped at Emma openly. "He means to dine with you alone?! Does he have any idea how imprudent that will seem?"

"I am sure that he's perfectly aware of it. Whether he cares or not is another matter entirely. Either way, it might be something I can use to my own advantage. Perhaps, in the privacy of his home, I can get him to let down his guard, make him reveal something that he wouldn't think of otherwise."

Andrew couldn't help but detect the undercurrent of extreme distaste in Emma's voice. "Emma, if you are finding this at all ignoble, than I will understand if you want to break it off now."

Emma shook her head vehemently. It was a temptation, but she couldn't allow herself to let that fear control her. "I can't. We have come too far and we are to close. I won't let him win. He has come to close to triumphing over me once before; I don't intend to let him do so again."

Andrew was unaware of what had passed so long ago between Beckett and Emma. But he could plainly see that she was not to be swayed. She shared the determination and courage of her husband, the qualities that had inspired his admiration for his commanding officer, and what now inspired his admiration in his wife.

"I shall let you know as soon as I can of any news I have." Said Emma, breaking into his thoughts, "Until then, I think that we had better now meet. There is no telling how many spies Beckett has, nor where they might be hiding."

"As you think wisest, Emma; I will wait for your word."

* * *

I know that this was a pretty short chapter, but hopefully it gives an idea of the increasing danger which is spreading over the Caribbean, as well as the rest of our favorite characters. Emma is playing a dangerous game, all for a good cause, but how far can she take it before it goes to far? And what is it that Beckett wanted to speak with her about? We will find that out very soon. Until then, let me know what you think of this chapter. The next part should be up soon, and it will probably be a little longer.

Next chapter: Things are getting back to normal for Jack and Marie. But when Marie gets the idea that Jack has heard of Beckett at some point in the past? And, James, desperate and forced into a position that reminds him of painful memories, finds out just how deep his temper runs. It will be inevitable that he and Jack will come to blows.


	32. Chapter 32: Underway

Yes, I am still alive, amazingly. these past few weeks have been insane. Sorry for the delay, but I hope that this nice double helping will make up for it. In these two chapters, we begin to see a different side of James Norrington and we see just how far he is willing to go in order to save Emma. We also see that he and Jack are not what you would call bosom pals. Enjoy!

Chapter 32: Underway

Morning found the _Black Pearl_ well underway to her destination. Granted, there was not much of a clue as to the actual place where they would end up, but there was a decided easiness among the crew, now that at least they were traveling in a sure direction. The compass had not wavered in its direction, though Elizabeth looked at it frequently. The crew all appeared to be in better spirits, epically Jack. Now that he had the possible answer to all of his problems and that he was back on speaking terms with his wife, seemed to be back to his old self.

However, when Elizabeth told them the story of what had thrown her into their company in the first place, a change of mood occurred that dimmed the previous good humor.

"You mean to tell me that Will was working for someone else during this whole time and he never even told me?" asked Marie, in astonishment when Elizabeth had finished filling in the blanks.

Elizabeth nodded. "I suppose. We didn't plan on any of this, you know. First, I'm think I'm going to get married, the next thing I know I'm being arrested by this Lord Cutler Beckett and wind up in prison."

Jack and Gibbs had also been in on this little conference, and when they heard the name Lord Cutler Beckett, their faces grew serious, especially Jack. "Cutler Beckett?" he repeated, "Is that what you said, Elizabeth?"

"Yes," said Elizabeth, "why?"

"'Lord Cutler Beckett,'" said Jack, in a voice of biting sarcasm, "is the head of the East India Trading Company. What may I ask was he doing at your wedding?"

"Well, we certainly didn't invite him." Elizabeth stated.

"Just like him to show up without an invitation." Muttered Jack, "But did he say what he wanted at all?"

"Yes, he said that he was arresting Will and I for helping you escape last year. He said that we were both condemned to death. Later, he made a deal with Will, saying that he would release both of us if Will brought him your compass."

Gibbs looked at Jack oddly, "What on earth would he want with your compass, Jack?"

There was a look on Jack's face that Marie had never seen before; Jack seemed concerned and worried, in a way that was totally unlike him. It was if his greatest nightmare had come true. Marie did not like to think that there could be a worse nightmare for Jack than Davy Jones. And yet, from the look in his eyes, she was beginning to think that this Cutler Beckett just might be a greater threat than Cutler Beckett.

"I don't like to think about that, Gibbs." said Jack. "It can't be for anything good."

"And did he even think that Jack would hand over his compass if there was nothing in it for him?"

"But he did have something for Jack." Said Elizabeth, as she withdrew leather bound parcel and handed them to Jack, "He's offering you a pardon."

"A pardon?" said Marie, "What kind of pardon?"

"A commission as a privateer on behalf of England and the East India Trading Company."

"That's not a pardon, that's employment." commented Marie.

"Two words that I have tried at all times in my life to avoid." said Jack, as he opened the letters and gave them a once-over. "Well, they looked legitmate enough."

"Yes, they're signed: Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company."

"Blah." Said Jack, who had been scanning the papers, made a face as if he had just tasted something foul.

"Will was working for Beckett and never said a word." Said Gibbs.

"There's more pirate than even I thought." Said Marie, "I don't know whether I should be worried about that or not."

Jack still didn't say anything, but gripped his wrist, the pirate brand on that was forever stamped there suddenly starting to hurt. As if he didn't have enough problems. The very name of Lord Beckett brought back many unpleasant memories.

"Beckett wants the compass." Gibbs said, a serious look on his face. "Only one reason for that."

"Of course," said Jack, comprehending, "he wants the Chest."

"Yes, he did say something about a Chest." Said Elizabeth.

Marie, Gibbs and Jack exchanged grim glances. "If the Company controls the Chest, they controls the sea." Said Gibbs, giving words to their worst fears.

"A truly discomforting notion, luv." Said Jack, to Elizabeth.

"And bad, bad for every mother's son what calls himself a pirate." Gibbs looked up worriedly at the sails that were swelled with a southeastern breeze. "I think there's a bit more speed to be coaxed from these sails. Brace the foreyard." He shouted to the crew, as he moved away from the little group.

Elizabeth apparently though the conversation over, however, when she tried to leave, she found her way blocked Jack. "Might I inquire as to how you came by these?" he asked, in a deceptively charming voice as he advanced on her.

Elizabeth really didn't know what Jack was trying to play at, though she clearly recognized the gleam in his eyes. "Persuasion." Was her short answer.

"Friendly?" Jack inquired, with a great deal of interest.

"Decidedly not."

"Will strikes a deal for these and upholds it with honor, yet you are the one standing here with the prize." Jack observed, before opening the Letters of Marque and reading aloud what Beckett had offered to him in exchange for his compass. "'Full pardon, commission as a privateer on behalf of England and the East India Trading Company.'"

He read it with his usual flippancy, and yet, Marie thought that she could detect something that was subtle enough to be almost undetectable: in Jack's tone she could hear the edge of a deep, unwavering hatred. This surprised her. Jack was not normally one to hold grudges, but it sounded like he had been holding onto this one for quite some time. She could not glean anything specific from this, but she was able to guess that Jack had encountered this Lord Beckett sometime in the past, and the memories of that encounter had obviously not left him with any warm feelings.

As quickly as it had come, however, the edge was gone and Jack sounded like himself again, though he made it clear that he had no intention of accepting Beckett's offer. "As if I could be bought for such a low price." He said, as he tucked the letters into his coat and turned to leave.

Elizabeth, caught off guard by this unexpected move, came toward Jack and said, "Jack, the letters give them back."

"No." said Jack, "Persuade me."

Elizabeth wasn't in any mood to play these games. "You do know Will taught me how to handle a sword."

Jack tuned around and said, seductively. "As I said, persuade me."

Elizabeth merely looked at Jack for a moment, as if he had gone completely insane before unceremoniously walking away. The look on Jack's face when this happened was utterly comical. He obviously hadn't been expecting that he could be turned down so easily.

Marie couldn't really hide the little snicker when she witnessed the scene before her. Jack turned to regard her; slightly annoyed that she was finding his humiliation so funny. "I suppose you found that amusing, did you?"

"Who me? Of course not. It's utterly tragic to see you so out of practice."

"Out of practice, you say?"

"Come on, Jack. You can't deny it, you're getting rusty. You haven't been practicing on me, so it only makes sense that you could fail so miraculously when you try to do it with someone else."

"Oh, thank you so much for your comforting words." Muttered Jack.

"Don't worry, Jack. It's a technicality that's easily remedied." She was about to walk past him, but paused to whisper into his ear. "You just need someone to practice _on_, or perhaps someone to practice on _you_."

Jack couldn't help but grin when he heard that obvious double meaning in her words. "Are you volunteerin' for this little practice session?"

"Maybe catch me at a free moment, and I'll see if I can make time for you."

Jack watched her go, the grin widening on his mouth. "I just might take you up that offer." He called back to her. It was good to have his wife back again.

Perhaps nobody who had been involved in the events of the past five minutes would think that what was being said might have been heard by an outside party. However, someone had been listening to the entire conversation, and had heard things that might be of interest to a desperate mind.

James Norrington alone hadn't been feeling the elation of the past few days. Indeed, he had sunk deeper into a state that was somewhere between repressed anger and despair. It was not the work which was dragging on him. He had once worked the drudgery duties on the ship captained by his father (not even the son of the Captain had been spared from such chores as cleaning the deck and mending the sails). It was rather the humiliation that he was going through. The pirates of Jack Sparrow's crew didn't seem to waste any opportunity in mocking him. It mattered little that he was now stone-cold sober. The brawl at Tortuga had spread like wild-fire, and there wasn't a man on the _Black Pearl_ who didn't know that not only was the former scourge of piracy in the Caribbean was now sailing with a pirate crew, he had started a drunken brawl in one Tortuga's taverns, that had ended with him taking a dive into a pig-sty. Such an irony was priceless to these men, and they didn't seem to believe in the principle of running a joke into the ground.

James Norrington was a proud man, and ever since landing in the midst of these pirates, that pride had been battered almost constantly. And, it was not just his pride. He had always harbored resentment and anger against those who called themselves pirates. Those feelings were always there in any of his dealings with pirates, however much he may have tried to hide their existence. But, now, he was constantly being reminded of it. It was starting to break down his reserve, and he was beginning to sense just how deep his anger went.

But, right now, more than anything else, his mind was tumbling over what he had just heard. So, it was not the compass that Beckett ultimately wanted, it was the Chest. The compass was merely a way to get to it, and that compass was now in Elizabeth's possession. If it kept pointing straight and true, than it was quite probable that they would reach their ultimate destination in a matter of days, if not several hours. And not only had he heard the bit about the compass, he had also heard something else from Jack Sparrow, regarding a certain set of Letters which were now in Sparrow's keeping. Those Letters could serve as a backup in his own deal with Beckett. The hard part would be getting those Letters and the compass into his possession. He hadn't even considered how to get them back to Port Royal, but he would deal with that when the time came.

This was not a side of himself that James had ever seen before. But he was desperate, desperate to save the woman he loved from a fate worse then death. For the first time in his life, the difference between right and wrong, honor and treachery, were not clear. But he was beginning to think that none of that mattered anymore. The only thing that did was he had to save his wife, by any means necessary. Every other thought, every other caution were beginning to vanish completely from his mind.


	33. Chapter 33: The Clash

Chapter 33: The Clash

It is a very true saying that opposites attract. However, attraction does not always mean something good. Attraction can sometimes become conflict, for how can two opposing forces clash unless they attract. Neither Elizabeth nor Marie had taken into account the strong and ultimately clashing personalities of both James and Jack when the two had been thrown together in this crazy voyage. A confrontation between the two of them was inevitable.

Sunset was swiftly approaching. It had been little more than two days since the _Black pearl_'s departure from Tortuga. Everything onboard ship had been more or less smoothly, however, it would be on this night that the clashing of these two would take place.

James was standing by the railing, seemingly watching the sun set setting in scarlet and pink streaks against the Caribbean sky. But he was inwardly considering in his mind the options that were within his reach. Unfortunately, none of them were very encouraging. But he would soon have a much harder challenge to put up with, when he found that he was no longer alone.

"I'm glad to see that you're enjoying the voyage." The voice of Jack Sparrow cut rudely into his thoughts. He had to stifle a groan; Sparrow was the last person that he wanted to see. He kept his eyes straight ahead, hoping that if he ignored, he would go away.

However, Jack was not to give up so easily. Instead of leaving, he sidled up to the railing and leaned against it, as it he and James were old friends. "I have to admit that I was beginning to wonder if you were enjoying yourself at all."

James, knowing there was no way that he could avoid him, said in reply, "Now, whatever gave you that idea?"

"Call it intuition. I have a very intimate knowledge of everything that goes on aboard my ship and I have observed and/or heard rumors that a certain former Commodore is not content."

The words "former Commodore" were clearly calculated to try and get a rise from him, but James forced himself to show no reaction. "I will admit that this voyage isn't the most pleasant I have ever been on, but I am content enough. You must admit that I shouldn't exactly be expected to have very happy memories associated with the _Black Pearl_."

"Suppose not, considering that last time you saw her, she was disappearing into a hurricane an' all. But still, you have to admit that she is magnificent, isn't she?"

James let the question hang in the air for a moment, wondering if he should give Sparrow the satisfaction of telling him the truth. He had found, during his short time aboard the _Pearl_, that she was truly a great ship. She was fast, maneuverable, capable of covering vast distances in half the time that it took other ships to do so. He could understand that there was some grounding in actual fact to all the old tales of the _Black Pearl_. It was everything that a pirate ship should be, and despite himself, James had to admire the _Black Pearl_. His father had respected the sea and the ships he sailed on the waters. It was something that he passed onto his son, something he had forgotten, but was now being reawakened for a strange reason that he could not fathom.

But, such thoughts were far from his mind right now. Sparrow was clearly expecting an answer, and so he finally said, "The _Black Pearl _is… admirable, despite her profession."

"Well, coming from you, that's certainly high praise. It's true, though. Ya know, it's funny, the _Pearl_ came through that storm without a scratch, while that big behemoth of yours, supposedly the pride of the Royal Navy nearly sank."

James was beginning to feel his temper getting the better of him. "One was not fit for the passage, Captain Sparrow."

"And now, you do have to admit that it is rather ironic. I mean, here you are on the very ship that outran you. I imagine that some heads rolled back at Port Royal over that deal. Of course, you seemed to escape the worst of it, more or less. Mighty useful, isn't it? Rank an' all it's privileges?"

James was beginning to understand what Jack was implying. Sparrow obviously thought that he was responsible for the wreck of the _Dauntless_ and may even have suspected him of using his rank to escape any of the repercussions that might have come from such a mistake. Had that been all that Sparrow could accuse him if, James wouldn't have minded; After all, such rumors had flown about him in the aftermath of the _Dauntless'_ destruction. He had grown used to them. What was eating at him now was that Sparrow seemed to be deliberately lording it over him, which was partly true. Jack Sparrow's ego and wicked sense of pleasure wouldn't have allowed him to miss out on such an opportunity to mock James for his failure.

James struggled to keep his voice from trembling with suppressed anger. "It is not your place to say. After all, I have never had to worry about the idea of my crew mutinying against me should they ever find the orders I give to be against my liking."

He noted with some satisfaction that the last remark had assuredly stung Jack Sparrow. He felt that might be a good place to leave things, and he turned and began to walk away. He hoped that would be the end of it, but Jack was not to be bested.

"Ya know, I find you Royal Navy people to be a puzzle. You spout all this nonsense about honor and discipline and than you turn right around and deny those posturings with your rash actions."

James stopped mid-stride when he heard this. "What do you mean by that?" he asked in a voice that had grown suddenly as cold as steel.

"It should be simple to figure out, former Commodore. Your system is outdates. It's you who need to be corrected, not us pirates. What else could have made a so-called respectful officer sail into the teeth of a hurricane; he should have known he couldn't possible get out of on the slim chance that he might get a chance at glory? Bloody short-sighted and stupid of you ask me."

That did it. James Norrington could no longer let Sparrow's words go unanswered. The pirate captain had laid down the ultimate challenge and James was about to take it.

A long moment of silence greeted Jack's last statement. It was broken by James' icy voice. "Do you really think that you know everything, Jack Sparrow?"

The question had not been what Jack had been expecting, so he had no immediate answer, which suited James just fine. He turned very slowly and stared at Jack with eyes that had become two flecks of granite. "You may know everything that goes on aboard your ship. You may know a great deal about the world and how to survive in it. I grant you even a passable understanding of human nature. But let me tell you, you don't know everything, in fact, there are some things of which you know nothing."

"Oh, really? Care to give me an example."

"You know nothing about what happened aboard the _Dauntless_, you know nothing of what I did. You don't have to try and be subtle with me, Sparrow. I know what you are thinking I am guilty of. I risked everything on the one small chance that I would get some kind of fleeting glory? That's how you see me, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, for the most part."

"Well, then allow me to set you straight. I am not in any way responsible for the _Duantless_' destruction. The order to pursue your ship into the hurricane was given but someone else. It was an order that I wouldn't give or even thought of giving. I knew the danger that the hurricane posed. I am not a fool, Sparrow, whatever you may want to think of me. I was perfectly aware that the _Dauntless _had no chance of making it through the hurricane. And had my orders been followed, the disaster could have been avoided."

James Norrington was a proud man. He normally was capable of hiding his extreme emotions when it came to pirates. But Sparrow's taunting was the last straw. James' anger was beginning to spin out of control.

"There are many things you don't know." he repeated darkly.

"I was perfectly willing to let you go." Said James, "I would have let you escape had things gone according to what I had planned. When I went after you, I certainly had no intention of returning with you or the _Black Pearl_ in tow."

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that?" asked Jack, "You the very height of the law-abiding, upright Navy officer who is sworn to take down piracy in the Caribbean?"

On and on the fight continued, the two men exchanging insults that grew increasingly louder and more violent in manner. They were so absorbed that they didn't notice that they were beginning to draw a crowd. Any sign of a fight and the crew of unruly pirates would have been drawn to it in an instant.

Later, neither Jack nor James would really remember all that was said, nor what it was exactly that caused the final shred of control on the part of James to be cut. But it was Jack who caused it to happen. And it was James who threw the first punch.

The scuffle lasted for about thirty seconds, though it seemed much longer to the two combatants. Jack, who had been involved in a number of brawls in times past, knew a think or two about fist fighting (plus, he had learned a few things from Marie), but James was able to be a match for him. So it came to be that both of them would be having a few bruises as mementos of the fight before it was broken up, by none other than Marie and Elizabeth.

Both women pushed their way through the crowd, who were starting to get into the fight, encouraging the brawl as only pirates can do. Marie's commanding voice, however, brought an end to their fun. "All right, all right, what's going on here?"

Getting to the center of the circle and seeing that Jack and James seemed bent on killing each other, Marie and Elizabeth knew at once what had to be done. Marie grabbed hold of Jack and pulled him off of James, while shouting to Elizabeth, "Elizabeth, get control of him before he ends killing everybody."

Elizabeth tried to get James to calm down, but the man seemed to have become possessed with a rage the likes of which Marie had never seen in him before. It looked as if he were perfectly willing to murder Jack then and there for no other reason than that he was standing in front of him. Pintel and Ragetti ended up having to step in and restrain James from behind.

Once they had managed to part the two combatants, Marie said, with no small amount of annoyance, "Now, what it going on here?"

Immediately, another hubbub broke out, not just between Jack and James but also everyone else who had witnessed the fight, all who seemed to have an entirely different account of what had just occurred.

It rose to such a fever pitch that Elizabeth at last got fed up and shouted, in a voice that resembled an angry wild cat, "Shout up, all of you! Shout up!"

Dead quiet instantly settled over the company. Marie was gaping at Elizabeth in shock. She had never heard her friend use such a voice. "Listen, you rabble," Elizabeth continued, "Anybody who has no relevance to this conversation should leave in the next five seconds, and whoever I catch talking about this incident will have me and Marie to answer, too!"

The threat of having to face up to Elizabeth, let alone Marie was a more frightening prospect than any of the onlookers could stand. The next second, they were scurrying back to their duties, trying to pretend as if nothing had happened in the first place.

Marie looked from the men to Elizabeth in slight admiration. Elizabeth had hidden depths that much was obvious. "Thank you." She said to her, before turning to confront the problem at hand, namely the two men who were standing in front of her, embarrassed and sullen, but still glaring daggers at each other.

"Well, who started this?" No answer was forthcoming, so she finally turned to her husband, "Jack?"

"Why are you looking at me? He threw the first punch?"

"I'm perfectly aware of the fact that he threw the first punch. What I want to know is what you said that _made_ him throw the first punch."

She looked first at Jack then at James before finally sighing and closing her eyes, muttering, "I swear, if it weren't for us women, the men would have killed each other off long ago."

"James," asked Elizabeth, pointedly, "What possessed you to do something like this?"

The great, sweeping torrent of anger that had possessed James but moments before was starting to ebb and he was blinking his eyes as if just awakening from a dream. He could make no sensible answer to Elizabeth's question. The only thing he could do was look away.

Elizabeth turned her gaze to Marie and shrugged helplessly. It was blear that both of them would be getting no kind of answer from the two of them. "Fine, on second thought, I don't want to know." said Marie, "But really, the pair of you, fighting in the middle of the crew, in plain sight of everyone? Do I have to remind you two of the obvious? This isn't a tavern in Tortuga. You certainly haven't earned anyone's respect with this little incident. Until this voyage is over, may I suggest that you stay on opposite sides of the ship. It will lower the risk of someone getting killed." She cast a significant glance at James Norrington. "Now might be a good time to start moving."

James took the hint. He wanted to be alone at the moment anyway. However, he still had one last thing to say to Jack Sparrow. As he was walking past him, he stopped and said, in a low, cold voice, "Do not think, even for a moment, Jack Sparrow, that you know anything about me, because you never have and you never will."

With that last stinging remark, he stalked away.

* * *

Hope that everyone enjoyed that. Please read and review. It makes me want to keep going. Hopefully, the next update will not be so long in coming.

Next chapter: Marie seeks out James to attempt to form a truce. And James finds out just how high the price of respect can be, and that it can sometimes come too late.


	34. Chapter 34:The Price of Respect

This is kind of a short chapter, but it is an important one. I think that it shows a developing understanding and friendship between Marie and James. Not to give anything away, but that will be a big part of At Worlds' End. Enjoy!

Chapter 34: The Price of Respect

Marie did not know what drove her to seek out James Norrington after the incident which had occurred between him and Jack. Perhaps, she had wanted to show him that he still had somebody that respected him among the crew, for even if she could not say that she was a close friend, or ever had been, yet she had known enough about him to respect him.

Perhaps, it was just curiosity. She had never understood Commodore Norrington, who had always struck her as being somewhat cold and distant. However, she had been watching him over the last few days, and she had seen far more than she had ever suspected, both in terms of physical strength and temperament. He seemed to have been born to a ship. He had not shirked from any of the duties that had been given to him, and she suspected that she might have enjoyed them, had the circumstances been different. It was pity he had taken a career in the Navy, he had would have made an excellent pirate.

In any case, be it through curiosity or some other emotion, she made up her mind to find him, and sure enough, she did find him, sitting in the shadowy underbelly of the _Pearl_. He did not seem to be doing anything particular, just sitting. His eyes were closed and upon his face there was a look of intense concentration. Marie got the feeling that she was intruding on a private moment. But she couldn't leave now as this would probably be the only time that she would be able to talk to him alone. Unable to go and unable to advance, she stood awkwardly, waiting for the opportune moment until she could make her presence known.

Finally, he opened his eyes and the look that Marie saw there was a total surprise. A sadness that seemed to well from deep within his being, shards of the deep anger that had fueled the fight he had had against Jack, and strangely, a resolution that appeared to terribly unyielding marked his features, as if he had just decided something in his mind that nothing would be able to shake him from.

Marie did not know what to make of this, so she tried to ignore it. Instead, choosing this time was as good as any to make her appearance, she dove in. "So, is this where you have taken refuge."

Norrington jumped, visibly startled by her unexpected entrance. "Mrs. Sparrow, I… I didn't expect to see you."

Obviously not, but don't worry, I'm not offended. And please, don't call me Mrs. Sparrow. I hate formality."

"I could hardly call you Marie, could I?"

"I'm sure you could if you put your mind to it." Seeing that he still did not look any easier, she sighed and said, "Fine, if you must call me something, call me Lady Sparrow. That's what I'm called in more formal situations. I much prefer it to Mrs. Sparrow, I always thought that sounded rather like a mouthful, don't you think?"

Norrington, who had by this time recovered sufficiently from his shock at seeing her to ask, "Why are you here?"

"Yes, you probably would ask that. Well, to not waster words, I am here to apologize for my husband's behavior."

He stared at her disbelief. "He didn't actually apologize, did he?"

"Not in so many words, no. I didn't say that I was offering _his _apologies, if you recall."

"It is not for you to apologize for your husband's actions, Lady Sparrow."

"Well, I'm afraid that you'll have to accept them, since this is as close as your going to get short of actually getting an apology from him."

He looked at her penetratingly. Marie grew uneasy with the long period of silence and said, "Did you think that I came to gloat?"

"The thought had crossed my mind. Why should you be concerned about my well-being?"

Marie opened her mouth to speak, but found that her answer was rather difficult to put into words. How could she explain what she believed? She finally decided that she should proceed as she had always done in these situations: speak the truth, in few words and hang what anybody else might think. "I believe that you are worth more respect than you have been shown. I've been watching you ever since you came onboard, and you don't deserve half of what you have been dealt with. We have all made mistakes, it does not mean that you should be punished for them now."

He was still looking at her, still not sure if she were entirely serious. "Are you trying to make peace with me, Lady Sparrow?"

"In a way, I suppose."

"What could you possibly gain from an action like that?"

"Contrary to what you might think, Commodore, not everyone who is a pirate is out to get something for themselves in every situation."

Norrington looked at her with slightly raised eyebrows. "Really?"

"Okay, maybe not. But I am willing to make an exception. We have no fight between us now. You may have tried to catch Jack at one point, but it all worked for the best for both of us. I see no reason why we cannot respect each other."

"You're willing to do that?"

Marie shrugged. "I think that you're a good man, I have every reason to respect that."

He was silent for a few minutes, mulling over what she had just said, and "I thank you, Lady Sparrow." He said, at last, "It's nice to know that there is at least one person on this ship who doesn't think me an idiot. Heaven knows that I have done enough to deserve the title."

"Yes, no more than Jack was for picking a fight with his mocking." Norrington seemed surprised. "Yes, he told me everything. He tried to play the innocent, as he always does, but I know how to handle him. He won't be bothering you for the rest of the voyage. I promise you that."

Norrington looked at Marie for a long time, and finally managed to smile a little. "Your brother has always spoken very highly of you, Lady Sparrow, now I know why."

Marie returned the smile. "Well, I for one am glad that we had this discussion."

"Even if you did not get anything out of it yourself?" inquired James.

"Oh, you never can tell, Norrington. Perhaps, one day I might be able to say that I gained something when I can actually call you a friend."

Norrington shook his head. "Forgive me, Lady Sparrow, but don't you think that might be a bit premature? We might be able to have a truce for the time that I am on the _Pearl,_ but it might be a bit much to say that we could ever be friends."

"A Commodore and a pirate as friends? Take it from me, Norrington; stranger things have been known to happen. Please, if there is anything you should need during the rest of the voyage, don't hesitate to ask."

She could not have known it, but Marie's words fell like small shards of glass upon James' ears, piercing him with a thousand unseen pains. There was only one thing that he knew he wanted, 'I want Emma.' Was all that he could think, and he almost wished that he hadn't for the thought immediately bloomed into a physical pain that was so intense he could almost feel his heart stop beating.

Why had Marie Sparrow come to him now of all times to try and make peace? Now, when he had decided so readily upon the only course that was now open to him? For no sooner had Marie come upon him, and then he had already decided within himself that he was going to do whatever it took to save Emma. He would follow through on his bargain to Beckett. And if he had to betray the likes of Jack Sparrow in order to do it, than so be it. He had made his choice, and not even Marie Sparrow's offer of friendship, however much he might have wanted to accept it, could not shake him from his purpose.

The price of respect was high, and for James, that price had come too late.

* * *

Read and review. As always, it is always greatly appreciated. Everyone have a great Thanksgiving!

Next chapter: Emma's dinner with Beckett. What secrets will be inadvertently revealed by Beckett, when Emma proves herelf to be far more adept at the art of deception than he ever may have thought?


	35. Chapter 35: The Art of Deception

Sorry about the long delay in this chapter. It's a pretty long way, but it really moves the story forward. Enjoy!

Chapter 35: The Art of Deception

The evening was a fine one, with a light breeze sighing lightly through the trees, the stars above shining softly in the velvet of a deep purple sky. It was a perfect beginning, thought Lord Beckett, to what he believed would be the perfect evening. He had been waiting for this evening with uncustomary excitement. The chance to have Emma finally all to himself, it was enough to make his heart skip a beat. And if things went his way, as he did not doubt that they would, this would be only the first of many evenings that he would be able to rightly say that Emma was only his.

He came to meet her almost as soon as her carriage rolled to a stop outside the door of his mansion. Bypassing the footman entirely, it was he who helped her from the interior of the carriage. "Good evening, Emma," he said smoothly, as he kissed her hand, "I'm so glad that you could come."

Even in the dim light of a gathering twilight, Beckett could see that her eyes were sparkling like the stars up above them. "Cutler," she said, curtsying almost shyly, "it is my pleasure."

Beckett put her arm in the crook of his elbow and escorted her up the steps into his mansion. There in the full light of his entrance hall, he was able to feast his eyes fully on the woman who had been on his mind in some form or another for the past nine years. In the poor light of the drive outside, he had not been able to see her adequately. Now he was momentarily struck dumb, a rare happening indeed for someone who was normally so calm and collected as Lord Beckett.

Emma was looking around her at the elegant surroundings in evident admiration. But when she noticed that he was staring at her so openly, she said, "What is it?"

"Oh, it's nothing, but Emma, you look stunning, if I might be so bold to say."

Emma smiled, obviously flattered by attention, if a little embarrassed. It was true, indeed, at least to Beckett's eyes. She had worn a red velvet dress, ornamented with golden thread, a dress which hugged to her body and dipped just low enough to show off, and yet, leave a lot to the imagination. And what Beckett was imagining would certainly have been considered scandalous by many. How Norrington had ever managed to get a hold of a jewel like this was an utter mystery to him. He didn't deserve her, anymore than he had succeeded in trying to pass himself off as a member of the gentry.

Emma spoke, cutting into his thoughts. "You have a beautiful home."

"Oh it's just a big house, really. I haven't gotten the chance to spend much time here."

"With the right company, any house can be turned into a home."

Beckett caught himself smiling. "How very true. And as I promised, there will be only a few servants tonight. I wanted this to a discreet and intimate evening. You know what people might say about a situation like this."

Emma shrugged, "I don't care what other people may say. I have endured many such rumors and gossip all my life, even when I married James. I have found that the only way it can be dealt with is to ignore it. I do not let the opinions of others keep me from doing what I know will make me happy."

"And you are happy that you came?"

"We shall see if the answer changes with the evening, but right now, I can think of nowhere I would rather be."

"Excellent. It joys my heart to hear you say that. Now," he offered his arm once again, "supposing that I were to give you a tour."

"I should like that very much, Cutler."

Beckett chuckled, "See, it is not so hard, is it? Calling me by my first name?"

Emma laughed along with him. "I find that it get easier and more enjoyable that me more that I do it."

They went through the different rooms of the house, all of them possessed with an elegance and beauty that Emma seemed to admire greatly. Beckett had made sure that the house which he would use to live in the Caribbean would be a reflection of his status. And the fact that Emma so admired it, made his choice all the more correct.

They had toured the house; they started eating dinner, Emma growing more radiant as the hours passed. Beckett, in the course of conversation, was constantly looking for an opportunity to open up the subject that had first prompted to invite her to his home. And as they were nearing the end of their meal, he thought that the time had finally come to speak of it.

The servants had finished clearing away the last of the dishes from the dinner and both Emma and he were sipping wine. "That was delicious, Cutler." Said Emma, "You are truly fortunate in your choice of help."

"Perhaps I am." He said, "I did take care to hire only the best. And I even brought some servants from England. However…" He let the sentence hang, hoping that that she would catch the sudden, slight loss of confidence in his voice.

She didn't disappoint him. "Are you unhappy in the Caribbean, Cutler?"

He started, as if the question had caught him off guard, when he was really quite pleased that she was exactly where he wanted her, "I am perfectly content, Emma. What makes you think that I am anything less?"

"You are _not _happy." She repeated with further emphasis. "There is a difference between being happy and being content."

"Is that so? I always assumed that the two were synonymous with each other."

"They are and they ought to be, but that is not always so. I sense that you are content in some areas and yet true happiness seems to be eluding you. Perhaps it's the way you speak of this house, as if it were just a place that you came to sleep at night. It's not really a home."

Beckett seemed to consider this. "Emma, your compassion and wisdom match your beauty. And you are very right; I have no connection to this place, not above an outward expression of who I am. I am perfectly confidant in the work that I am doing in the Caribbean; I feel that I have gained so much ground already. And yet, I am not content just with that." Suddenly feeling awkward, he rose to his feet and paced the room a few moments. It was true that he had planned on this. But now, when it came time to ask, he really had no idea how to say it. She could cause such an effect in him.

She remained silent and patient, her eyes and smile encouraging him to take the next step. Finally, he was able to proceed. "There comes a time in a man's life when he finds out that power and wealth ate not the only things in life. He desires, above all else, companionship." He turned back to her and said, "Emma, I am at that place now. I desire someone that I can share all my assets with. And when I think of all the women I have ever known, then there is only one whom I deem worthy enough to take a place by my side." He stared at her intently. She was looking at him with wide eyes, somewhere between confusion and enthrallment. She was fascinated by him, as he was by her. There could be no mistake. She would not refuse him this time. "Can you guess who I mean, my dear Emma?"

"No, Cutler, I do not think that I can." He didn't know if she was leading him on, or if she was serious. No matter, he would go along with her.

"Emma, I must ask you something, something that I should have asked you a long time ago. Would you consider the possibility of…" At that exact moment, just when she was leaning forward, eager to hear what he was about to ask, when the door opened and a secant appeared, looking slightly uncomfortable, as if he knew that he walked in a bad time."

"My lord, you have a visitor."

"Send them away. Can't you see that I'm busy?" Beckett's voice was a tad harsher than he would have liked it, but he had a right to be so in his present frame of mind.

The servant took a step back, obviously taken aback by the strong tone in Beckett's voice, yet stood his ground. "My lord, it is Mr. Mercer. I tried to tell him that you had expressly forbidden any visitors, this evening, but he refused to leave. He claimed that his business is urgent and he will not leave till he has spoken with you."

Beckett, fuming silently, signaled to the servant for the servant to leave. He turned back to Emma, sighing in evident frustration. "Emma, how will you ever forgive me for leaving you in this manner? I had wanted so much to have this evening devoted to the two of us alone."

Emma was smiling in a perfectly angelic way. "I understand, completely, Cutler. You must not make yourself uneasy on my account. I shall find something to amuse myself in the parlor and once you return, the time will be as if it had never happened. In fact, I shall forget the time that we spent apart."

"You are a perfect angel, Emma." Said Beckett. And how no one else could have seen it for some long, he added in his mind. However, he merely said, "When I return, I shall continue where I left off."

"Then go, the sooner you leave, the sooner you will come back."

"Very true." said Beckett. He moved to the door, paused, took one last look at her, before opening the door and closing it softly, leaving her in solitude.

* * *

Emma could not have been more relieved when Beckett at last left the room. True, she intentionally brought him into this amorous frame of mind; she had ever dressed for the part. And yet, having to endure his open staring, his oozing voice paying her complements at every turn, even his touch was becoming almost more than she could bear. She had to keep reminding herself of why she was there and what she was doing.

She shook her head. She couldn't let herself be distracted by such thoughts. She had to focus on the task at hand. Beckett had said that there would be few servants and he had made his good on his word. She knew that if she stepped carefully, than she wouldn't be discovered and because of that tour of the house, she suspected that she could find out where he was meeting. Beckett was an unfailing master at the art of deception, but he had unsuspectingly been tutoring a surprising student, one who had learned well.

Carefully, she sneaked from the dining room to the hallway beyond, which split into two directions. To the left was the parlor and library, the part of the house where Beckett no doubt suspected she would be. But to the right was where she needed to go. Those were the more vague portions of the house that Beckett had breezed over, declaring that it was nothing more than his personal offices and there would be absolutely nothing of interest to her. She had had to play along with his mood; it was too much of a risk that she would reveal herself and her intentions. However, she now had an opportunity to see those rooms in a way that would probably yield more interesting information than any number of documents would be able to yield.

She crept down the hall, straining her ears to catch any sound of Beckett with his visitor. She finally came to the door he had pointed out as his office. Beckett, unmindful that there might be any danger in being overheard had left the door wide open. With infinite care, she slid up to the opening and peered inside. Sure enough, there were Beckett and Mercer, two of the vilest and most evil man that she had the misfortune of encountering.

She buried hers dislike with a great deal of difficulty, and concentrated on listening. "I suppose I don't have to tell you that you have come at a bad time." that was Beckett, sounding none to pleasant. "I expect what you have to say will be good."

"You were the one who told me to come as soon, as I had returned." Said Mercer, in his distinctive, craggy voice, a sharp contrast to contrast to his master's velvet smooth voice. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything to terribly important."

"It was, as s matter of face, a marriage proposal, which might be considered rather important, do you not agree?" Beckett let the question hang in the air, and even though he clearly wasn't expecting an answer, Emma saw Mercer's lips curl in evident distaste. His answer to the question was obvious without him having to state it. "But, it can be delayed for a few minutes. What is your news? Did you find him?"

"Yes, sir. It was just as you said."

"Of course, the young, fiery-blooded Miss Swann charges off looking for her fiancée and the ever honorable Norrington must follow after her. How truly touching."

When Emma heard them talking about her husband, she listened closer. The last that Beckett had told her, James and Elizabeth's whereabouts had been unknown.

Beckett continued. "And what was his reaction to our little business arrangement?"

"He seemed to dislike the idea at first, but once I told him of the alternative, he was more than willing to see things your way."

"Two weeks?"

"Two weeks, though I must tell you, Lord Beckett, I have my doubts if Norrington can accomplish the task you have set for in that amount of time."

"Don't be too sure. Mr. Norrington is quite resourceful when he puts his mind to it. Never underestimate the power of a man who is utterly enamored. He may be undeserving of the priceless trophy that he has somehow managed to land, but from what Emma has said, he is entranced by her. And if he should fail in his deadline, there will hardly be any reason to panic. We can be patient."

"Do you intend to keep your part of the bargain?"

By marrying her in two weeks' time? Perhaps not. That would be too swift for appearances. However, betrothal is quite another matter. I will propose to her and once she says yes, I know that she will be content to wait for whatever time I set for her."

"And what of her marriage vows? That is something that she will not easily break."

"Leave that to me."

Emma was becoming more appalled the more that she was hearing. Cutler Beckett meant to propose to her this very night, while she was still married. For no other reason than to satisfy himself that he could have her? How would she be able to answer him? He had considered that fact, of course, that Beckett wanted to marry her; but she had never dreamed that he would make a move so soon. Her mind was so overwhelmed by the horror of this idea that she had to almost force herself to attend to another question, possibly the most important question of all. What was the other half of the deal which Beckett had made with her husband? What would Beckett want from James to ensure a fair exchange?

She did not have to wait long for the answer. "Once he comes here with the compass, I will want a ship ready at my disposal of a moment's notice."

"I'll take of the order myself. Forgive me, sir, but are you quite sure that the compass will work for you?"

"Don't trouble yourself, Mercer. Locating the Chest will be simple enough; the hard part will be attempting to find the owner of what the Chest contains. Once that is done, everything will finally start falling into place."

This exchange sounded the strangest of all to Emma. The Chest, compass, why did those two words together sound familiar. "The owner of what the Chest contains." It suddenly came to her. What Andrew had told her, the legend of Davy Jones, the heart he had cut out and the control that anyone had should they come into possession of the heart. It was all to clear to her now. Somehow, Beckett intended to use Jack Sparrow's compass to the find the Chest and once he did… she could not bring herself to finish the sentence. The possible consequences were simply too terrible to contemplate.

For her own part, Emma did not have to hear anymore. Now, it would be best to disappear before Beckett caught her. Stealing away from the doorway, she snuck back down the hall, back the way that she had come. Beckett, when he looked back on that conversation with Mercer that night, would never have believed that he had been overheard, by one whom he had thought the least able to commit deception.

* * *

Once Lord Beckett had dispatched his business with Mercer, he hurried back to the parlor, intent on making sure that Emma wasn't alone a second more than was necessary.

As he approached the parlor, a sound greeted his ears that caused him to stop dead in his tracks. It was the sound of the piano-forte in his parlor, and the person who was playing was obviously of great skill. Beckett slowly smiled as he listened; he believed that he knew who was playing.

Easing open the door, he saw Emma playing the instrument, her back to him. She was so absorbed in the song that she was playing, pouring her entire soul into the piece. Beckett was so transfixed by the sound and the sight of the woman in front of him that for a moment all that he could do was simply stare in silent wonder.

Time seemed to freeze when she was playing. He could have stood there for hours and listened to her, and still would have thought the time too short. When she had finished, his applause was more or less on instinct than by any conscious decision. Startled by the sound, she turned to face him. "Beautiful," he said, "utterly exquisite. You are even better than I remember."

She seemed embarrassed by the praise. "Thank you, you are far to kind. I shouldn't have played it without your permission, I know, but I could never resist such a fine instrument."

"Nonsense, what's mine is yours. I am glad that you found something to occupy your time."

"I did, though the time has seemed quite short. Was your business with your visitor productive?"

It was, actually." He looked closely at her. "But you should hardly trouble yourself with such issues." He indicated for her to sit, and he seated himself beside her, closer, perhaps than decorum might allow, but not so close as to make her feel on edge. "I am hoping that we might pick up where we left off, as if no time had passed."

"Of course, that is what I was hoping. I even remember the last words that you said. Would you consider the possibility of …" She paused, and nodded to him. "Continuing from that point, no time will have passed at all."

Beckett couldn't help smiling at her enthusiasm. "Quite right; then to begin at that point, would you, Emma, consider the possibility of giving me your hand in marriage?"

Silence greeted this question. Beckett looked hard at her, trying to gauge her reaction. Indeed, he could not see much that resembled unspeakable joy in her face, which was something of a disappointment. But, on the other hand, there were no extreme reactions of horror, which had to be a point in his favor. If he was, in fact, reading her correctly, what he was seeing was shock, as if the proposal had been totally unexpected.

"Marriage, Lord Beckett?" She at last managed to ask, still apparently shocked.

"Oh, are we back to the formalities now?" he asked her, teasingly.

"No, I mean, forgive me, Cutler. But you just took me by surprise."

"Could you not have seen my feelings in all the time that we have spent together?"

"Perhaps, you did, yes. But I must confess that it must have escaped my notice. You really want to marry me? You are not speaking in jest?"

"No, Emma. I love you with all my heart. I have loved you ever since I first met you and I have been faithful to you memory. You are the only person I have ever wanted to marry." Still more silence followed this statement. "Oh, I see," He said, almost disappointed. "You don't think you can return the depths of my feelings?"

"No, no, it is not that, I assure you." She said, trying to reassure him. "I do fee something for you, something deep and passionate. But I couldn't bring myself show them. I didn't know what you think of me."

Beckett was relieved and strangely when he heard this. He took both of her hands in his and kissed them. "Oh, Emma, I knew that your heart would understand mine from the start. So, you will marry me?"

Emma still seemed to be hesitating. "Believe me, Cutler, my answer would be immediate, but I am spoken for. I am still the wife of James Norrington for better and for worse."

Believe me, Emma, it was for the worst." Beckett got up and circled the couch that Emma was still seated on. It seemed to him that Emma needed a little convincing. She had lived all her life being suffocated and sheltered, first from her father, and now her undeserving husband. She needed to know, to feel what it was a real man could do.

"Consider, if you will, his personal history. The son of a common, working class merchant sailor, thrown into the Royal Navy when his chances were wasted, a man who has no idea of what it takes to make a true man of the sea. Do you know his behavior towards his men at sea?"

"As I said, once before," she said, "we never speak of his duties."

"Well, allow me to fill you in. He is an incompetent sailor, a soft and lax commander. And what's besides, he is a coward. To offer you an example, while he was chasing down the _Black Pearl_, he unwisely drove the _Dauntless_ straight into a hurricane. Because of his idiocy and incompetence, Sparrow escaped and the _Dauntless_ was destroyed. What is more, he then cowardly placed all the blame on the man who now serves as a Commander in my fleet."

Emma's face turned to look up at him and her eyes were filled with shock. "Are you sure?"

"Henry Gillette told me himself." Said Beckett, "Your husband cut and run because he was too frightened to face the consequences of his own foolish actions. I am sorry if this pains you." He laid his hand in her shoulder, allowing himself to revel in the softness of her skin. He had always dreamed that it would come to this. "I know that your gentle nature would cause you to feel compassion for him. But he is not worth your concern, he is not worth _you._"

There was no immediate response; Beckett supposed that she must be absorbing this report of her husband's true character.

"I-I must think about this." She answered, at last. "But, if I were to agree, how would you end my current marriage. Divorce could take far longer than either of us would be willing to wait."

"I have contacts in London that could speed the process; it would be only a wait of six months at the most. And most engagements last that long, do they not?"

"And James? I would not want him to be harmed. I know that he is not the man that I thought he was and I regret my marriage to him after what you have told me, but I do not want anything to happen to him."

"Nothing will happen to him, Emma. There is hardly any reason why it should. After all, he may be guilty of many things, but he is not a terrible person. He cannot be condemned for lacking in the one virtue that any man who married you should have had. He lowered himself to whisper softly in her ear, "He is not a man who understand passion." He heard her take a sharp intake of breath, and felt her shuddering beneath her hand. He could feel his own heart beating with excitement. Dear God, how often had he dreamed of this. He was so close now that it took all of his will power not to pursue her been farther. But he knew that Emma would never allow herself such an indulgence, despite her feelings for him. He, like her, would have to wait.

Withdrawing a little from her, he allowed her to recover. "And, besides, if he were to see how happy you will be with me, I'm sure he would be quite willing to give you up."

He noted that her color had risen and that she was breathing hard, no doubt a sign of her own awakening passions.

"I will think about this." She said, once she had regained her control. "But I promise I shall have an answer for you soon."

"Take your time, Emma. I understand that this is a hard decision. But in your consideration, remember this: you have your whole life trying to make others happy at the expense of your own contentment. I think it is time you did something for yourself."

"I must be going." Said Emma, after a moment of silence. "It is late and I beginning to feel tired."

Beckett, though disappointed to see her going, could yet be graceful about it. "That is most likely for the best."

"I had a wonderful evening, Cutler. Thank you so much for inviting me."

"No, Emma. It is I who must thank you for gracing me with such a presence as yours." He took her hand and kissed it. "I hope we shall meet again very soon."

She smiled, gracefully. "Soon, I promise."

With that brief exchange, he led her to the door, and helped her into her carriage. And thus ended their evening together.

* * *

In looking back upon the evening, the two reactions of the involved parties were quite different. Beckett congratulated himself on a job well done. True, he would have preferred it if she had said yes right away, but he supposed that he had expected a bit too much. After all, considering who Emma was, he shouldn't have counted on anything less. Still, he also knew that Emma felt as strongly as he did. He was sure that it would be only a matter of time until she accepted him.

For Emma, all she feel was disgust, violation and the beginnings of a feeling that she had never felt before: hatred, cold, implacable hatred. Lord Cutler Beckett had put her in a difficult position. How would she be able to continue this charade? How far would she have to go?

Emma leaned her back against the carriage and closed her eyes, feeling tears beginning to run down her cheeks. "Oh, James," she whispered softly, "I wish you were here."

She was beginning to feel torn between the task that she had to accomplish and the voice of her heart, which was urging her to escape from this situation, until it would be too late for her to escape.

* * *

I know, I really leave this on a little bit of a cliffhanger. But, this is only the first step in Emma's journey. Soon, she is going to find out just how far reaching her purpose is. She won't be staying in Port Royal for very much longer. But, before I give to much away, please read and review.

Next chapter: We get a look into the mysterious past of Jack Sparrow, what his early life was like and how he became entangled with Lord Cutler Beckett.


	36. Chapter 36: Secrets of the Past

SNOW DAY! Stuck inside on cold day, I have gotten a few extra hours to update this story. So, enjoy this little update. Here we get an idea of Jack's past. Just to clear up any confusion, this was partly inspired by what I read on Wikipedia. I know that there is a book series that explores Jack's past, but I have not read them and my version of his past is not based on them.

Chapter 36: Secrets of the Past

The day or two following the fight between Jack and James aboard the _Black Pearl_passed in relative peace. Norrington had taken to heart what Marie had said, and was keeping a low profile, avoiding Jack as much as possible. Jack didn't take much offense from this, as he himself was doing everything to avoid James.

For Marie, she not going to do anything to try and make friends between the two of them. If they wanted to act like two immature children who couldn't see past their differences, than she would let them do just that. She had no wish to be caught in the middle of the palpably tense crossfire that existed between them. They would have to work it out themselves.

Besides, there was something else which was occupying her thoughts, questions which only Jack would know the answer too. She was determined to find out just what his history was with this Cutler Beckett.

Her opportune moment came when she caught in an unguarded moment at the wheel of the _Black Pearl_. Jack nodded to her, grinning happily. "Mornin', luv. Starvin' for my company, were you?" It was obvious that he was happy to have the two of them back on speaking terms.

Marie returned the grin. "I have been starving for your company for the last few months, Jack. You're just too thick-headed to have noticed."

"We've already worked that out, Marie, and I'm makin' up for lost time." He suddenly noticed what she was wearing around her neck. He reached and held up the sapphire pendant which he had given to Marie a year before on the Isla de Muerta. "Oh, nice to see you wearin' this agin."

"Like you, Jack, I'm making up for lost time." said Marie, "And speaking of that, I did have something to ask you."

"Yes, Marie, I still love you. You keep askin' that question. One of these days, I'm goin' to get tired of it and I might answer no, so be careful."

Marie rolled her eyes, "No, Jack, I wasn't going to ask that. It was something else entirely."

Jack's eyes seemed to take on a brighter gleam when she said this. "I'm interested already. Ask away, luv."

Marie couldn't help but think that he wouldn't be so cheery when he heard what she had to ask, but on the other hand, she wasn't about to give up now. "Jack, how do you know Lord Cutler Beckett?"

Jack immediately froze, a shadow passing over his face. It took him a moment to attempt to regain his composure and even then, he didn't quite succeed. "What makes you think I know anything about him?"

"Call it a hunch." said Marie, trying to use humor to get him to drop his mask, but it didn't work. His eyes still seemed distant, his face strained and his whole manner serious. "Jack, please talk to me, don't shut me out again."

Jack considered for a moment, but only for a moment. She had a right to know about his past, at least a part of it. "My cabin, Marie." He said, going down the steps to the cabin. Marie, slightly puzzled, followed him.

Once they were in the captain's cabin, Jack turned to her. "I need to ask that you won't repeat what you are about to hear to anyone."

"You know I won't Jack. I've always kept your secrets. Not that you've ever told me that many, there is a whole part of your life I don't know about. I try not to be too curious, but I have often wanted to know more about where you came from."

"I'm going to tell you about that, at least a part of it. You see, Marie, I don't like talking about my past. It's not a subject that I enjoy discussing. My early life was hard. There were some bright moments, but they were altogether too brief and fleeting. I don't like remembering it. Still, you are in my life now. I can't go on avoidin' the subject with you forever."

Jack feel silent, his eyes once more growing distant. Marie did not try to interrupt the silence. She knew when the time for her to speak was, this was Jack's story. She couldn't remember seeing him this somber in all of their marriage. She knew him well enough to know that when Jack became serious, he bore listening too.

Finally, he began. "Where best to start?" He got up from where he had been sitting and began to pace the cabin, his steps swaying naturally with the to and fro motions of the _Pearl_'s deck. "I won't go into particulars. You asked about Beckett and that's what you'll get. You asked me how I knew Beckett; well the answer is that I used to work for him."

Marie stared at Jack in open-mouthed shock. She wasn't quite sure if she believed what she had just heard.

Jack rightly perceived the reason for her reaction. 'That surprises you, does it?"

"Well, I have to say that it does. What do you mean when you said that you worked for him?"

"Just like sounds, really. I worked for him and the East India Trading Company, as an honest man."

"You?" She said, with evident sarcasm.

"I know, it sounds entirely unlike me, and believe me, I'm not proud of it."

"But why? I know you, Jack. Being employed by anyone for anything, even if it were a licensed pirate, is not your style."

"I can't give you an answer, except I was much younger than. I didn't know that what the world deems "honest labor" is sometimes worse than any kind of piracy." Jack's face visibly darkened; as if a memory even worse than being employed as an honest man suddenly flitted through his mind. "And, at that time in my life, I wanted to be as little involved with piracy as I could get."

As suddenly as that sudden darkness had come, it was gone, though Jack still remained serious. "Go on." She prompted, when Jack didn't continue.

"I was no older than you and Will when I first met you. And just as naïve in some ways. I thought that I had done pretty well for myself. I had found good work, just shipping goods and valuables, but it paid well, which was all that mattered to me. I had other things at that time to be proud of. I was Captain of my first ship. I thought it made me rather special that at such a young age I could have achieved such a thing. Shows how much of a fool I was. I still have fond memories of my time aboard her, the _Wicked Wench_." He grinned slightly at Marie's raised eyebrows. "I know, not the best name, but I wanted to choose a name that people wouldn't soon forget."

"You probably could have done better."

Jack laughed a little. "Yeah, your right, Marie. You can be sure that the _Wicked Wench_ raised a lot of eyebrows from the traditional and snobby folk. Though I have to say, I think that they were just jealous. You see, the _Wench_ was a light and fast ship, highly maneuverable, and seemed to have an uncanny ability to avoid getting her cargo captured by pirates."

"Ironic."

"Aye, ironic. But the _Wench_was more than that. She ws the first ship that I ever felt had a soul. I had been raised on ships, but the _Wicked Wench_ taught me how to actually understand a ship, anticipate its moods, to the point where you feel that it's almost communicating with you. She and I, almost from the start, were a true team." Jack's voice had dropped to a neat whisper and his eyes were distant and wistful. Marie understood. Jack had an ability to have a feel for nearly any vessel he stepped on, but the _Pearl_ was unique. He was in tune with her in a way that Marie had never been able to fully experience and that she privately envied him for. It now was apparent that she was not the only ship which he had shared such a mystical connection with.

Jack, after a few moments of reflection, shook himself and continued with his story. "Well, to cut a long story short, I was fulfilling my obligation and commissions so well that I eventually attracted the attention of none less than the head of East India Trading Company, the then Sir Cutler Beckett. I thought all the time that I was quite fortunate to have captured the attention of someone like Beckett. I didn't learn until later that it was more of a curse to be noticed by Beckett than it was to remain forever invisible from his sight. When I met him, he was all charm and politeness. He told me that he believed that he could arrange even greater duties for me, if I could carry a very precious cargo."

A moment of silence followed. "And this previous cargo was what, exactly?" asked Marie.

Jack's face seemed to have grown even darker, and when he spoke again, Marie was able to hear that hard edge of a long-lived rage which she had observed earlier, only this time, it was much more evident. "In order to understand this next part, there's something that you need to know about me. I don't admit to takin' a moral stand or obeyin' my conscience for most things, but there is one thing that I am absolutely unyielding on, and that is the issue of slavery."

"Slavery?" questioned Marie.

"Yes, I don't transport slaves, even as a pirate, no matter how high the profit might be. I did that only once, and I wasn't able to go through with it. And that was when Beckett gave me the job of carrying them. Marie, those people were treated worse than animals. They had had all of the spirit beaten out of them and they were all half-starved. I learned that whole families had been ripped apart and that they would never be reunited because of the slave auction. No wonder the look on many of their faces was blank, their eyes so much like voids, they were tryin' to shut themselves off from the pain. Some of there weren't even human anymore, they were just… I don't know how to describe it. They were almost dead, only waiting for a grave to fully quit the world of the living." Unconsciously, it seemed, he reached down and squeezed his shoulder, as if he needed the anchor of a real person to keep herself from getting too lost in such a horrific memory. "I hope that it's a sight you never have to endure."

"And he called these people cargo?" asked Marie, appalled by what she was hearing.

"Yes," said Jack, "I was supposed to deliver them to the Caribbean, where the barbaric practice would be continued. The longer the voyage went on, the more that my conscience began to get the better of me. I simply could not reconcile the idea that my ship would be used to transport slaves. If this was Beckett's idea of advancement, then I wanted no part in it."

"What did you do?"

"I defied Beckett's orders. The slaves had been taken from Africa, and when I found out the port where they had come from, I brought them back and released them. Once I did that, I falsified the ships' records so it looked like we had sold them. It was my first official act of piracy, I suppose, though I didn't think it so at the time."

"And you're telling me that Beckett actually fell for this?"

"At first, he did, or maybe he always knew and he was just lulling me into a false sense of security. I thought for awhile that I had outsmarted him, because he never gave any indication that he knew anything about it. But, he found out and he proved to be far cleverer than me for just once. Either way, he wasn't happy. Beckett was a harsh taskmaster and he demanded perfection. If you did your job well, kept your head down and kept quiet, you could make a comfortable enough living. But those who raised Beckett's wrath were made an example of, like he did with me."

The silence stretched out between them, it was unbearable for Marie. Jack seemed to have disappeared into the past, secrets that he had never before revealed, that he had buried and tried to forget, finally were being brought to the surface. She had quite honestly never seen him like this. She had to admit that she had never thought he was capable of being so tormented. He was angry, saddened and pained by what he was telling her, showing her a part of himself that he had probably not shown anyone for a long time.

"Jack," she asked him, softly, "what did he do?"

Jack, after only a moment's hesitation, said, "He burned my ship. Men came in the night, overpowering the watch. They arrested me, tied up the crew so that they would have no chance of escape, then they steered the _Wench_out to where no one would be able to save her, and then they set fire to the ship, got into a longboat, forcing me to go along with them, and left my crew to die." Jack's voice was shaking. He was close to tears, and Marie could only imagine how he must have felt, watching helplessly from the humiliation of captivity while he watched his own ship sinking in flames beneath he waves, with his crew onboard.

"They were innocent of any crime." Jack continued, "They were following my orders, they didn't deserve to die. And I had to sit and watch both my ship and my crew disappear, powerless to do anything to help them. The memory still gives me nightmares. But they weren't yet finished with me. They hauled me in front of Beckett, who far from being outwardly angry seemed almost happy that he had caught me in the act. The man enjoys doling out punishment far more than he does rewards. He said that the best way to punish a man like me wasn't to kill him; it was to make him lose his will to live. He intended to break me and make the rest of my life miserable. Of course, the greatest punishment he could think of was not being accepted anywhere. He was going to make sure I couldn't earn a living in any honest port again." He rolled up the sleeve of his right arm, where the tattoo of the sparrow flying over the sea was clearly visible, and one other mark, the one that had changed his life forever. "And then he gave me this?"

Marie looked from the branded "P" on Jack's arm, up to his somber face. "And more, the scars on your back, he gave you those too, didn't he?"

Jack nodded. "Wielded the brand himself, and enjoyed every second of it, the scum. He feeds on human suffering." The raw hatred in Jack's voice was somewhat overpowering. The quiet intensity in his face and voice were nearly as frightening as if he had broken into a fit of screaming and ranting.

"After I had been beaten to within an inch of my life, they left me to die. But this time, Beckett was the one who had underestimated me. I found that Beckett hadn't broken me; he had, in face, made his biggest error by not killing me. I swore that I would live, and that by living, I would get the best revenge against Beckett. I embraced the fate I had been forced into, and found that the freedom of piracy was far more preferable to being tied to somebody else's authority, despite what I had to give up for it." He seemed to be returning back to his old self, though he was still more serious than Marie was used to seeing him. Still, she was glad to see that he was now not so lost in the secrets of his past.

"I'm sure you can guess what else happened from that point." Said Jack, "I built up a reputation as a fearsome pirate, becoming both famous and infamous at the same time, a double standard I rather enjoyed perpetuating. What's more, I achieved rather equal status with Lord Beckett. He may not recognize it, but it's as legitimate as any title he has for himself."

"Don't forget your greatest achievement." Said Marie, "You have a woman that, despite your irritating, self-centered, egotistical, pig-headedness somehow loves you."

"Aye, that's a blessing he can't count on findin', or a curse I wouldn't wish on him."

Marie looked at him in mock offense. "You're calling me a curse?"

Jack tried to look innocent, "Who, me? Of course not. I'm just sayin' that a woman like you would most likely drive Beckett mad. I sometimes wonder why the same thing hasn't happened to me, what with me havin' to put up with you constantly an' all."

"You were mad _before_ I met you."

Jack really had no reply to this, but instead of acting in his normally mock defense of his dignity, he started to laugh along with her.

"You must understand I never expected to hear from Beckett again. I thought that I would go my way and he would go his. But I was determined that I would never fall into his clutches again, or the likes of anyone like him. I intended to be as free as my name implied. And I was, for a long time." He grinned at her, and took her hand, "Until I met a woman who showed me just how delightful bondage can be, when it's the right kind."

"If you think flattery will me think higher of you, then you're right. But there is still something that I don't understand. If you are so sure that you don't want to be taking orders from somebody else, why haven't you given back to the Letters to Elizabeth? What use could they possibly be to you?"

Jack seemed to take a few minutes to consider the question, before answering, "Insurance, I suppose. I know from experience that Beckett isn't one to keep his word. You can trust me more than you can trust him and that's sayin' something'. Like for example, I have my pardon, but where, may I ask, is yours?"

Marie's eyes widened with horror. The meaning of Jack's ironic question was immediately obvious to her. He would condemn me to the noose, you mean? While you went free?"

"Aye, or something worse. I don't really want to think what that might be. I will not see you tied up and beaten like an animal, or possibly worse. Plus, if Elizabeth stole these, as I suspect that was the kind of "persuasion" which she used to get these papers from Beckett as a guarantee for her dearly beloved's safety, than she is sorely mistaken. Beckett would as soon break a deal as keep it if something better comes along. If Elizabeth or Will have anything that he wants, Beckett would kill both of them to get it, I know."

"And yet, he thinks that he can make a deal with you again?"

"Oh, he's no fool that Beckett, crafty as a snake and slipperier than an eel. He makes his own rules and he expects you to play by them. Of course, he also cheats. He still thinks that I am foolish enough to be lured by a chance of a free pardon. He's expectin' me to take the easy way out."

"You usually do." Marie pointed out.

"I know that. But I think that in this instance it might be advisable for me to break with tradition, there is too much at stake to do otherwise."

More silence passed between them. But it was not the heavy brooding silence that had so permeated the last few minutes. Rather, this silence was almost relieved. Marie felt herself breathing easier. She had never before considered that the secrets which Jack carried with him about his past would have been so dark and painful. And she could not help thinking that there were many more. However, she had heard enough for now. She merely said, "Thank you, Jack, for telling me this. I know that it wasn't easy for you."

Jack actually smiled at her and gave her hand a squeeze. "I'm glad that I got to tell you these secrets, too. It doesn't change anything about the past, of course, but it's good to get them out." he looked at her, "And I know someone as curious as you will want to know more someday."

"If there is a someday."

"That was spoken rather glumly. Is there any secret you want to pass along, since we're in the mood?"

"Jack, I've tried to not to show it, but I'm frightened. I'm frightened by this whole thing, I'm frightened that I'll never see you again, that there won't be a "someday" for you and me. I… I'm frightened to think that there might a possibility that I might lose you."

Jack put his arm around her shoulders and held her close. "I'm not sayin' this hasn't been a difficult time for you an' me. We've faced out share of challenges, but I think this may be our biggest one yet. I can't say what will happen. But there will be, to your words, a "someday" for us to enjoy together. I promise you that."

* * *

May I just point out that we get the first hint in this chapter of the dark ending which is in store for our favorite pirate captain, and of the despair which will come close to tearing Marie apart. But that is still in the future. For now, I hope that everyone enjoyed this little glimpse into Jack's life. Read and review.

Next chapter: Emma gives her answer to Beckett, and learns the full extent of his plans. And the calvary finally arrives, when an old personange from the past comes into play and gives Emma the chance to pursue her destiny. What will she choose? Stay tuned to find out.


	37. Chapter 37: Reluctant Sacrifice

Here is a double header. These two chapters kind of go together, and I didn't want to leave you all hanging on a cliffie. Think of it as an early Christmas present. Enjoy this chapter, though don't blame me if it makes you feel a little queasy. You'll see what I mean when you read it.

Chapter 37: Reluctant Sacrifice

Lord Cutler Beckett was feeling triumphant. He ordinarily would have been satisfied with more common place phrases such as happy or pleased. But not recently, in the past few days, he felt as if everything was happening on a grand scale. He felt as if everything was going as exactly according to plan, with a few setbacks and challenges which he had not anticipated, but he had managed to use even those to his advantage.

On this day, standing in his office above the bay of Port Royal, he was accomplishing two tasks for the price of one, he was fulfilling a promise to Emma and he was gaining a critical asset in his plans for the Caribbean. Beckett was an expert at the subtle line that separated threats from negotiation. He was a skillful spider that was spinning his own web, and he was in the process of ensnaring another person that would be of use to him in his web.

"There's something to knowing the exact shape of the world and one's place in it." he said, referring to the map that was in the process of being painted on the wall of his office. "Don't you agree?" he asked, almost conversationally of the man who was standing in his office, a rather ironic idea for the man was hardly what could be called a guest, as he was standing between the two guards, with his hands shackled.

Weatherby Swann was dirty and unkempt. At some point during his stay in the dungeons, he had lost his wig, and his eye red-rimmed from lack of sleep. He was defeated, and he made no attempt to hide it. "I assure you, these are not necessary." He said, holding up his shackled wrists.

Beckett paid no attention to his pleas, almost as if he hadn't heard it at all. "I had you brought here because I thought you might be interested in the whereabouts of your youngest daughter."

Just as Beckett had predicted, the news clearly concerned the Governor. "You have news of her?" he asked, with a little too much hope.

"Most recently seen on the island of Tortuga," commented Mercer from the side, "and then left in the company of the known pirates Jack and Marie Sparrow, and other fugitives from justice."

"Justice, hardly." Said Weatherby, bitterly.

"Including the former Commodore of the Royal Navy, the husband of your elder daughter." Beckett said, coolly, "Our ships are in pursuit, and justice will be dispensed by both cannonade and cutlass, and all other manner of remorseless pieces of metal. I personally find it distasteful to contemplate the horror facing all those onboard." The hidden warning in his voice was so obvious that it would be impossible to miss. When he turned to look at Weatherby, he felt a rush of satisfaction when he saw that the man was shrewd enough to catch it.

"What do you want with me?"

Beckett's answer was short and to the point. "Your authority as Governor, your influence in London, and your loyalty to the East India Trading Company."

"To you, you mean?" said Swann, with resigned sadness.

Beckett knew that Swann had weakened to the point of breaking. "Shall I remove these shackles?" He asked, with pitying condescension.

Weatherby was too tired to struggle for very long. He had not the strength, nor the stamina to fight any longer. He had only one choice. His daughters were all he had left; he had to save them by any means necessary. Resigned, he held his hands out to Beckett. "Do what you can for my daughter." But, even as he said the words, he still was not able to fully banish the thought that he was offering his soul to the devil.

Beckett's eyes flashed triumphantly. He had won, all too easily. He was not surprised, though. He had expected that Swann wouldn't be his most difficult prey. Regardless, he now had with him in his power, as advantage which he meant to fully exploit to his own purposes, for however long it proved useful to him.

He nodded to Mercer, who stepped forward and unlocked the chains. As the manacles fell away, the chafed and raw, bloody skin on the Governor's wrists was revealed. Beckett as he walked back to his desk, he said off-handedly to Mercer. "So you see, Mercer, every man has a price he will willingly accept, even for what he hoped never to sell.

Weatherby looked up, confused by this sudden statement that seemed to have no bearing on the conversation, had he known who he had just agreed to work for, he would have understood perfectly. But Governor Swann was neither a Machiavelli, nor shrewd statesmen. He had not the gift of negotiation and speech that seemed to come to Beckett so easily. There were several things that he did not know, so he had no idea that Beckett filly intended to break the deal that he had just made without so much as a second thought if something better should prove to come along. And if any person stood in the way of his plans, he would not hesitate to kill them.

But, of course, Beckett had no intention of telling the Governor any of this. Just as he was about to dismiss him, "My lord, you have a visitor."

"Tell them to return at another time. I can't receive them at this moment."

"It's Mrs. Norrington, Lord Beckett."

Beckett's head came up and he looked at Gillette. "Well, why did you not say so in the first place?" He turned to look at the Governor, whose mouth was agape in shock. He looked utterly appalled by what he had just heard. He had no idea of what had been developing between Beckett and his daughter, and Beckett was enjoying his discomfort. It made his revenge against him all the more satisfying. He had never doubted that he had been partly responsible for Emma having turned him down all those years ago. But now there was nothing that Swann could do to stand in his way.

"Escort the Governor back to his to his home." Said Beckett, to the guards, "It wouldn't do to have Emma see him in this state." He nodded amicably to the Governor, "It was a pleasure speaking with you, Governor. I look forward to working with you."

Swann might have wanted to say something to this cruelly ironic statement, but the guards clamped down his arms and dragged him away before he could say it.

"Show her in." said Beckett, when the Governor was gone.

Emma came into the room, looking as lovely as usual. "Emma," said Beckett, as he came forward to take her hand. "A pleasure, as always; thought I must say that I have rather felt your absence keenly these past few days."

"Forgive me for staying away Cutler, but considering what passed between us our last meeting, I felt a need to spend some time apart, though it was a burden for me as well. But I do have something that I would like to speak with you about." Looking about her at the officers in attendance and the craggy-faced Mercer, who was glowering at her with open distaste. "And it would serve better to speak it in private."

Beckett immediately understood her meaning, and his heart started pounding faster. "Of course, Emma, at once." Turning to the others in the room, he said curtly, "Leave, all of you, I will call if your services are needed."

There could be no arguing with Beckett when he used that tone of voice. The others left without question, even Mercer, who cast Emma that same unpleasant glower before passing out of the room. Emma, to her credit, met his gaze steadily and even nodded to him politely as he passed her by. She couldn't suppress the slight shudder of dread that passed down her spine when she saw him. Something in that cold, cruel face frightened her, almost as being in Beckett's presence disgusted her.

Beckett, totally unaware of what she was feeling, said, as soon as they were alone. "Now, you were saying?"

Emma plastered a sweet smile on her face, trying to project an air of perfect artlessness and honesty, trying to be exactly the sort of Emma that he expected and wanted to see. "I shall get straight to the point. A week ago, you asked me to marry you. I have stayed away because I did not want to be influenced by your presence."

"Of course, I understand." Said Beckett, who would allow her to say what she had to, without appearing to be impatient or hurrying her.

"There are many things that might be found objectionable by many people. I have wrestled with them myself. The disbanding of a marriage, a promise made between two people supposedly binding them for life is not something to be taken lightly." She had been looking the view across the harbor, however, she now turned to face him, earnest and passionate. "But, I have also been thinking of what you said to me, how you said that it was time to do something for my own happiness, and you were right, Cutler. My feelings for you cannot be repressed. It's as if I have been asleep these past none years, and only you have been able to wake me up. You, in such a short period of time, have made me realize that I have so much to live for. You helped me to see who I truly am. I don't want to lose sight of that, Cutler. I want to marry you, and I do not care if everyone should question my morality from this day forward. All I want is to spend the rest of my life with you."

Speaking these words was almost enough to cause her to be sick, but even she was astonished when she saw that Beckett actually believed her. She still sometimes had trouble believing just how deep her influence with Beckett ran, or that she may have finally gotten the better of his cunning mind.

Beckett was beaming with genuine happiness. He took Emma's hands in his own and kissed them. "Emma, you realize, that this moment, that there is no other man on earth happier than I am."

"And there is no other woman happier." Said Emma, smiling and lying through her teeth.

"I will send off to London before the day is out. I will take care of everything. This will all be done properly, never fear."

"I would marry you tomorrow, if it were possible, regardless of what anyone might say."

Beckett laughed in an indulgent manner, a sound that grated upon her ears. "I understand your impatience, my dear, but why alienate society when there is no need, too. And let me assure you," lowering his voice to a secretive whisper, and moving in a little closer, "when you are the wife of Lord Cutler Beckett, non one will dare to question your honor. Besides, we have waited this long; what hardship a few months more?"

"You are right, I can be patient. It will just be the longest wait of my life. My only fear is that James will make some objection that will delay its progress."

Beckett was slightly annoyed by this reference to her current husband, but he managed to cover his feelings admirably. "Oh, there is no need to worry on that account. I have taken care of all that. I am arranging a post for your soon-to-be former husband in India. He will be quite happy there and will be far enough away that any lingering feelings for you will soon fade."

"You are very right, Cutler." said Emma, "Not every man would treat his rival so."

"Yes, well, not every man had the same heart that I do. And of course, I would do anything for you. If it is your request, you have but to ask and it will be as good as done."

"Oh, there is nothing that I need, Cutler, except…" she suddenly stopped and looked down, as if embarrassed to go on.

"Yes, Emma, what is it?"

"There is something that I am curious about, something that I have been curious about for awhile now. I know that you cannot tell me everything, and that it is probably no business of mine, but I have been wondering, what are you so eager to accomplish in the Caribbean? If there not profit enough to be made in India?"

Beckett stepped back and looked at her closely, his face unreadable. Then, he smiled in a satisfactory way. "I knew it."

"Knew what?' asked Emma, suddenly frightened that she dug too far and that her secret was now found out.

"I knew right from the start that you would understand me we are kindred souls, Emma. You will understand what it is that I'm trying to do, what it is I hope to achieve. I thought it so before, but I know it now. No other woman would have the nerve of the intelligence to ask. I dare say that no other woman would even care."

Emma smiled, seemingly in modesty at the praise, though in truth relieved that he still knew nothing. "I never cared for the finer things. It is my mind that I seek to cultivate."

"Which is why I can be sure that I can tell you this." Beckett took her by the hand and led her over to the great mural of the world that was being painted on the far wall. "This is what I can off you, Emma, the world."

"Not all of it, surely." Said Emma, trying to make it sound like a joke, when her heart was beginning to hammer with unnamed anxiety.

Beckett did smile ironically. "Perhaps not in a literal sense, but such an offer borders on reality for me. The East India Trading Company has expanded our borders as far as we can in the East. Our trade routes extend from the Indian Ocean to the English Channel to the borders of Africa and Madagascar. The Company is _the_ greatest power on the seas. And when out borders can hold no more, we must expand, and that Emma, is why I am here. I already rule the East, I intend to add the West to my domains as well, starting here in the Caribbean, then working both south and north, I will have the resources of the Americas under my command. The East will join with West, South join with North." His voice had grown in passion and excitement as he outlined this grand scheme to her, his eyes glowing with dreams of power as he painted the picture of the future that he saw and dreamed of. "Imagine it, Emma. You beside me in this great enterprise. Together, we ca and will rule over all the four points of the compass."

Emma gaped at Beckett, open-mouthed with shock. For an instant, she knew not what to say. Beckett's ambitions went even deeper than she had supposed. It seemed as though he somehow wanted to control the oceans of the entire world, not just a few specific areas. The map was not merely a wall decoration; it was a symbol of his entire mad design. She didn't know how she was supposed to react to this other than with blind horror, and yet she knew that the man standing in front of her was obviously expecting some kind of answer. So she, at last managed to gasp out, "How do you mean to accomplish such a thing?"

Beckett merely smiled, in a way that made her skin crawl, which was rather strange, considering that his smile was merely flirtatious. "Do not concern yourself with the how just yet." He raised his hand to stroke her cheek, almost affectionately. "Wait a few weeks more. You will receive an answer to all of your questions."

He wanted to kiss her; she could see it in his eyes. Disgust and revulsion immediately rose within her, and her first instinct was to recoil from his touch, but she forced herself to stand there and take it. However, almost unbidden, an image rose in her mind of James. For any to assume that there was no passion in the relationship which they shared would have been sorely mistaken. Emma was not sheltered; she knew the intimacies of physical pleasure. She and James had shared it so many times, and between them it had been so perfect, so wonderful. The thought of anyone else made her sick.

"I am sure that you have much to do, Cutler." She said, trying to extract herself from his embrace. "I should be going."

But Beckett caught her arm, preventing her escape. "Stay." He whispered, softly, drawing her close to him again, "Only a few moments more." He lowered his head and pressed his lips against hers. It was not a deep, passionate kiss, far from it. But it was enough to cause the bile to rise in Emma's throat. She wanted to pull away, to turn around and run away as far and fast as she could away from this torment. And yet, her feet seemed rooted to the floor, refusing to move. Desperately, she clung to the image of James in her mind. An imagined image was a poor substitute, especially considering the reality of the man before her, but it helped her to survive the sickening experience of being kissed by Cutler Beckett.

It seemed to last for an interminable age, but was probably only seconds, and in the end it was not Emma or Beckett who made a move to end it, it was an outside force. The door suddenly banged open and Emma heard the voice of Gillette, "Lord Beckett, there are pressing matters… oh, excuse me, sir."

Beckett turned angrily to the hapless Gillette, "You fool, I gave specific instructions that I was not to be interrupted."

"But sir, you said that there was business which couldn't wa-"

"The business be damned and you along with it should you ever dare to disobey me again."

"Please, Cutler," pleaded Emma, secretly glad of any excuse to make her escape, "Don't be angry on my account. I do think it might be best for me to leave now. It might be best to avoid any… ugly situations."

Beckett seemed to consider this a moment, before conceding to Emma's judgment. "Very well, Emma, I will let it pass." He turned a warning glance at Gillette. "Just this once."

"Thank you, Cutler. Please, come tomorrow should you the time. I should love to see you. We have much to discuss."

Beckett smiled as he took Emma's hand and kissed it. ""That we do, my dear. I shall be there tomorrow. I look forward to it."

Emma was numb as she left the office and all the way back home. All she could think was what had she done? Had she truly given herself in betrothal to a man who was little better than a monster? Of course, she had no intention of following through it; she would rather die than do such a thing. As she kept thinking about what had happened over this mere half-hour, she began to have the awful suspicion that she had gone too far in this deception, that any chance she had of backing out was now ruined. He had her now and he would not let her go, she was good as his prisoner, if not worse.

As she arrived home, and came into the house, her mind had gone so far down this terrible road that it was beginning to show physically upon her. She herself wasn't aware of it, until she ran into her maid, Lucy, who had come to meet her mistress when she had come into the house, only to stop dead in her tracks when she saw her. "My lady, are you ill?"

"What do you mean?" asked Emma, than she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her skin was pale, sickly and white. Her eyes held such a haunted, far away look that she felt herself looking more at a stranger than her own reflection. She was suddenly aware of how light headed she was feeling. The toll of keeping up this deception had finally caught up with her.

"My lady," Lucy's voice broke into her contemplation, "forgive me for being impertinent, but you are all right, aren't you?"

Emma blinked, almost as if she hadn't heard the question. "No, I don't think that I am quite well." She moved past Lucy and began to climb the stairs. "I am going to my room to rest. I would prefer not to be disturbed." If Lucy had had anything further to say to this unusually curt order from her mistress, she wouldn't get a chance to say it, for Emma was already gone.

In her room, Emma's firm resolve began to shake. She had no strength left but to sink down on her bed and let loose the pent-up tears of anger, frustration and utter despair. For the first time, she was beginning to have doubts. She knew what Beckett was planning to do, even some suspicion of how he would do it, but she had no idea of how to stop it. She had been all confidence with Groves in their meetings, but now she was starting to wonder if she had any kind of power to actually defeat Beckett. She had not taken into account the fact that if she played her part too well, any chance of spying on Beckett was as good as gone.

And than, there was James. Would he ever be able to understand? She was not a fool. She had been caught in an intimate embrace with another man. The secret was out, and tongues would wag. She was certain that James would hear about it, in some way. Would she have the courage to tall him the truth before he heard a distorted report for someone else? And even she did tell him all, would he even want her back?

Overcome by the sheer hopelessness of her situation, Emma bowed her head and sobbed quietly. She, who had always been one to see the good and the hope in every situation, now found that she was so close to tasting the bitterness of defeat.


	38. Chapter 38: Destiny's Call

Chapter 38: Destiny's Call

Emma lost all track of time, wrapped as she was in her own private despair. She had forgotten that outside her room, the world continued in its normal everyday life. The sun persisted in its journey to the western horizon, and sank from view, and with its exit, the dull light of twilight settled over the Port Royal. When she aware once again, she was almost surprised to look out her window, and see that darkness had fallen.

However, her solitude was about to be interrupted. There was a timid knock at the door. She still wasn't in the mood for company, but she couldn't cower in her room forever, either. "Come in." she called in a voice that was slightly tired and hoarse.

Lucy came in, an odd expression on her face. She seemed obviously uneasy about disturbing during this emotional time, but there was also something in her face that made Emma think that Lucy was confused about something, and she wouldn't know how to explain it to Emma. "I am sorry to disturb you, my lady. But there is a visitor who needs to see you."

'Who could be calling at this hour?' Was Emma's first thought, but she was hardly in the mood to take any steps to satisfy her curiosity. "Did you tell them to leave?'

"I tried, Madam." But she positively refused to go. She said that it was an urgent manner, almost a manner between life and death."

"She?" Questioned Emma, in surprise.

Lucy nodded. "She is unlike any woman I have ever seen in my life. She's almost wild in her appearance. She's wearing trousers and a shirt like a man, and she even had a sword. Her hair is all windblown and her clothes are tattered. I was half-scared by the sight of her, never mind the way that she spoke."

"Was she violent?"

"No, Madam, not like that. Just very blunt, very much to the point. I don't think that she has ever spent day in civilized company."

"Did she say what her name was?"

"I think she said that it was Ana Maria Pellar. She said that she was part of the crew that rescued Miss Elizabeth a year ago, but I don't see how that could be possible."

Ana Maria, the _Black Pearl._The memory flashed through her mind before Lucy had even finished speaking. Elizabeth had told of the pirate crew who had rescued her from the Isla de Muerta the year before. One of them she had described as a woman named Ana Maria, who was almost as fiery and spirited as Marie herself. Why Emma's first thought was that it should in fact be this same woman she did not know, but her curiosity was peaked enough now that she couldn't resist finding out for herself.

"Than I will see her. Where is she?"

"In the parlor, madam."

Emma thanked Lucy and hurried down the stairs. She had no idea what this mysterious visitor might mean, but she knew also that to ignore it, might very well mean disaster.

Sure enough, the woman in the parlor was just as Lucy had described. Though her back was turned when Emma came into the room, she turned around when she saw her entering. She seemed to feel slightly out of place in such elegant surroundings, though she and James were anything but ostentatious. She clearly would have felt more at home in the open air upon the sea. Nevertheless, Emma could see in her eyes that she was determined to do whatever she had come to do, but she was not someone that she should fear.

"Are you Emma Norrington?" The question seemed unnecessary; for the woman already knew the answer it appeared.

"Yes, I am. You must be Ana Maria. How do you know my name?"

"I am glad to hear that Elizabeth still remembers me. We did not spend that much time together, but I liked her."

"Elizabeth has spoken highly of you, and I was grateful to you and the others for rescuing her. But to be quite honest, I never expected to meet you in person. In the _Black Pearl_ in Port Royal then? Is Elizabeth with you?"

Ana Maria hesitated, as if she didn't want to disappoint Emma. "No, she is not. I am no longer a member of the _Pearl_'s crew."

"What?"

"I left the _Pearl_ months ago. I'm sure that none of the others would even suspect that I am here."

"But if they don't know, than why are you here?"

"Emma, I know that you have a lot of questions, I know that I would too in your position. But I'm afraid that we don't have time to go over them all. The reason I came is because I have a message to deliver to you. It might be difficult for you to believe but I need you to hear me out."

"What is it?"

"This is what I was told to say, word for word. Emma, you have to leave Port Royal at once." Emma's mouth dropped open in shock, bit before she could say anything, Ana Maria hurried on, as if afraid that Emma would stop her. "You have to leave Port Royal and come with me and the crew of the ship that I am a member of."

Emma stared at her. Whatever she had been expecting to here, this had been the last thing. "Leave? With you? Why? I don't see the point."

"I don't understand myself, either, Emma. I must be honest with you that these are not my words. But, the one who told me has a power beyond the ability of me or you to understand fully. She told me that if you don't go with me, the futures of you and your husband are doomed. Your husband is going to return to Port Royal very soon, and when he does, he will have served his purpose to Beckett. Beckett is planning to kill him and marry you immediately after. Any chance you have of stopping him will be stopped."

Shock after shock seemed to pile in upon Emma. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Certainly the actions that Ana Maria had mentioned were not beyond Beckett's capability to commit. But how could she speak of such certainty of what was yet to come?

"You seem to know a great deal about me and my situation, and yet I know almost nothing about you. Why should I trust you?"

Ana Maria seemed to consider the question for a moment before she said, "I have been a victim of the East India Company's cruelties. Their presence is beginning to be felt in ports all over the oceans. They have already killed a personal friend of mine. Perhaps the only answer that I can give to you and it is certainly not an amazing one is that I am woman, and I want to help you escape any harm yourself at the hands of Beckett."

Emma looked closely at Ana Maria, seeming to scan her inmost heart and motive. She had always had a sixth sense for knowing who was friend and who was not. Now, she had to trust that instinct more than ever, for she knew that the right choice would forever change the course of her destiny and the wrong choice would lead to disaster.

"Say that I was to believe you." She said. "You are adamant that I go with you. If I were to do that, I would leave behind my home, my father. Why would you ask such a sacrifice of me?"

"Emma, you have done all that you can here. What could you possibly do as the wife of Lord Cutler Beckett? Your husband will be dead; you will be trapped with that devil forever. If you want to make a difference, you can no longer stay here."

"And going with you will give me a chance to make that difference?"

"I will not lie to you, Emma. You might find yourself in far greater danger if you went with me. Certainly if you stayed in Port Royal you would encounter none of the death and destruction which I fear is coming from all that I have heard. But, if it were me, I would rather be free to make my own choices, even if that choice meant I could possibly die, rather than never being able to have my own voice again." Perhaps she sensed that Emma was still unsure, for she came up to her and tentatively put a hand on her shoulder. "Emma, I know that this is all very difficult for you to believe. But you have a much greater role to play in this than might at first be obvious. Perhaps this was where you were meant to be all along."

Emma looked steadily at Ana Maria for a long time, her mind weighing the two options before her and that risk that went with each. At last, very slowly, she nodded. "I will come with you. What do you want me to do?"

Ana Maria smiled, seemingly relived that Emma had listened and believed her enough to agree to come with her. "The ship I came on is anchored off the coast, a little ways from here. We must hurry, we have very little time. Don't be frightened, no one on the _Sea Queen_ will harm you. The crew in mostly female anyway."

Emma drew herself up to her full height. "I have seen the worst that piracy can do, Ana Maria. And I can promise you, that even if I was not born to the sea, I can learn to live on it. I won't faint dead away at the first sign of danger. You needn't worry about me."

Ana Maria seemed impressed despite herself. "Well, then, for what you need to do, pack only the essentials. And as I'm sure you may have already guessed, skirts don't belong on a ship by any stretch of the imagination."

"I'll see what I can do." said Emma, already putting together a quick mental list of what she needed.

"One last thing," said Ana Maria, the serious note in her voice causing Emma to turn and look at her. "If I gave you a sword, would you know how to use it?"

Emma sensed the deeper implication of the question without being told in actual words. "I can defend myself." Was all she said, "And I would do what I had to, if it was the only way."

Ana Maria merely nodded. That was good enough for her. "Than you had better hurry."

Rushing fro the room and up the steps to prepare as best she could the unexpected journey that she was about to embark on, Emma's mind and heart were awhirl with more emotions than she had eve felt at any one time: excitement, fear, and strangely enough, hope. Yes, she was feeling hope for the first time in so long. True, she was striking out on a road that was new and dangerous; beyond anything she had ever planned or wanted for herself. And yet, she knew with every part of her being, that because of this unexpected visitor, a door had been thrown open that she was meant to go through. Emma had never thought that her life would be fated for something extraordinary, but that night, she felt the call of destiny, and felt, at last, that she was truly where she was meant to be.

* * *

So, there you have it. Emma is at last free from Port Royal and off on a new adventure. I couldn't just have her stay in Port Royal for the entire second and third movie, that would be way to boring. We won't be seeing her for awhile, but at least she won't be around Beckett anymore. Speaking of which, it is rather hard to believe that this chapter marks the last turning point of the story. From here on out, we will be speeding towards to conclusion. Something to look forward too, or not, since we all know how this particular adventure will end. But for now, please read and review.

Next chapter: Marie gives a little comfort to Elizabeth and has a discussion on curiosity with Jack (yes, I am including that scene. I don't really like it with Elizabeth, but Jack looks so cute in it that if I could rewrite it with his wife, than I'm all for keeping it in). After a lot of heavy and depressing stuff the last few chapters, we get some fluff before we hit on the really tragic stuff.


	39. Chapter 39: Comfort and Curiosity

Chapter 39: Comfort and Curiosity

Elizabeth Swann was depressed; that much was obvious to anyone on the crew. She was sitting on the steps that led up to the wheel, staring off despondently into space. Most of the crew steered clear of her. They had experienced the changeable reactions of a woman in this mood, and they didn't want to run the risk of getting their heads bitten off. Marie, however, had no such reservations. First off, she was a woman herself, so she had a certain amount of immunity. Moreover, Marie was not one to be easily daunted by the prospect of trouble. Trouble, it could be argued, trouble was one of the things that Marie thrived on.

So, she made it her determination to find out just what it was that was bothering Elizabeth. She came towards her in seemingly a casual way, as if she were merely been walking along the _Pearl_'s deck and had just happened to run into her. "Good morning, Elizabeth. How are you feeling?"

She got no answer. Taking this as much an invitation to chat, as it was probably a desire to be alone, she sat down on the steps beside her and proceeded to chat. "Nice day, isn't it?"

She still got no answer. She didn't know if Elizabeth was even listening to her, or if she was truly too lost in thought to notice her presence. So, Marie decided that she would have to say something so outrageous that it would be sure to catch her attention. "By the way, I must warn you that you might be disappointed."

This had the desired effect. She turned her head to look at Marie, slightly startled. "What?"

"Don't worry, Elizabeth, you don't need to be coy with me. Even if you happen to be curious about Jack, I can share him for awhile. However, I can tell you that while he may talk a good game, when it comes to the actual practice, there is sometimes something missing in the performance."

Elizabeth was too stunned for a moment to say anything, but than her face turned a deep shade of scarlet and she stammered, "Mare, I didn't… I…" But then Marie started laughing. "You were kidding me weren't you?"

"You were just too easy a target just now." Said Marie, "And besides, you weren't paying me the attention that I deserved."

"So, you didn't mean what you just said about Jack?"

Marie flashed her a secret smile. "That is for me to know and you to find out. Now, moving away for me, I was only trying to get your attention. You seemed rather depressed the last few days if you don't mind me mentioning. When we haven't been keeping our male partners in line, it seems like you're always off somewhere moping. What's the matter?"

Elizabeth, temporarily roused out of her former morose silence by Marie's playfulness, now became serious once more and slightly wistful. "I just thought I would be married by now." Her eyes had grown slightly distant again, though still aware of Marie's presence. "I'm so ready to be married."

Marie felt sympathy for Elizabeth. After all that she had and Will had gone through, it must have been a harsh blow to be separated just when they were about to be married. No wonder Elizabeth had been so depressed.

Uncorking the bottle of rum that she had been carrying and handed it to Elizabeth. After staring at the bottle only a moment, she took it and had a drink from it.

"You know, Elizabeth, I've got almost as much reason to be disappointed that your wedding didn't go forward as you have."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, besides the fact that I would say it's a long overdue ceremony, Beckett has also quite unfeelingly robbed me of a sibling."

Elizabeth looked at Marie in slight puzzlement. "Do you mean me?"

"I don't believe there is another Elizabeth Swann soon to be Turner in existence, or if there is, my brother is far more dishonest that I ever thought him capable of. Come on now, has it never occurred to you that once you get married to Will, you would be my sister?"

Elizabeth looked slightly embarrassed. "No, I have to say that it never occurred to me."

"I'm hurt." Said Marie, "But I suppose I can forgive you. All these years you never thought that you would have a chance, now you've been engaged for the past year, now you're separated, yet again. I suppose you would be all wrapped up in each other. I have to say that I was a little surprised to fine you only engaged, not married."

Elizabeth sighed. "It was my father's idea. He gave his consent for me to marry Will, but he felt that he would wait for a year, for the shake of propriety. He didn't want it to look like Will and I had some pressing reason to get married so soon."

"Typical. Governor Swann was always overly concerned with appearances."

"Marie, that isn't fair. It's not like he forcibly separated us. After all, he thought nothing of allowing Will how to teach me how to use a sword."

"Ands what does that mean exactly?"

Elizabeth smiled in a way that mirrored the one which Marie had given her earlier. "A year Will taught me how to use a sword, how much of that time do you think was actually spent in teaching?"

"I see."

Elizabeth returned to being serious. "To be quite honest, I've often wondered what it would actually be like to be married. I have been so used to my own way of life, that I worry sometimes that I will lose part of who I am, or even that Will may stop loving me after the actual ceremony."

Marie looked at her in frank surprise. "I would have thought that you held m brother's affections in higher confidence.

"I do, it's just a stupid fear that comes upon me every once and awhile." She was silent for a moment before asking rather unexpectedly, "What is it like being married to Jack?"

"Excuse me?" Marie said.

"Well, you and Jack, you're both such free spirits, and that hasn't seemed to have changed all that much. I have to admit it's rather something of a miracle that you haven't split up before now."

"Oh, we have split up." Said Marie, "At least four times. We just get so angry and frustrated with each other that we get into a big, blow-out fight and then just walk away."

"But you came back, didn't you? And that must have been back during the beginning."

"No, actually, it happened once after we got married." And is only starting to mend, she added silently to herself.

"But what makes you keep coming back? It sounds so exhausting."

"Oh, it is, believe me. there have been times when I have considered giving it up altogether. But, to be truthful, I don't think that I could ever leave Jack. We may have our differences, but at the same time, we are still to alike for that. Something always draws us back together, weather we care to admit it or not. And whatever that bond is, it has proven to be stronger than all our attempts to break it."

"And you've never regretted your choice."

Marie shook her head, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth, "No, I never have. You spoke earlier of a fear that you would lose something when you married Will. Well, you do lose some things, but you gain is infinitely worth the sacrifice. I never thought that I would marry before I met Jack; I was to afraid of losing my independence, my being the only one that I would have to take orders or concern myself with. But I think what that I have found in the process of being married, is that when you are on you own, with only yourself to keep you company, it can become rather monotonous. What is more, you begin to find that you are always with someone who is not always that special. It's possibly one of the hardest, but valuable lessons that I have ever learned."

"And Jack, does he feel the same way?"

"Yes, he does, though he may not say it quite the same way. He makes much more of a show out of complaining about the "forced bonds of marriage." You know how he is. But he's no more able to walk away than I am. And besides, after he went to the trouble of marrying us himself, I doubt that he would want to undue what he went to such trouble to officiate."

Elizabeth stared at Marie in complete astonishment, "Excuse me? Jack did what?"

"He married the two of himself." Marie said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "When he proposed, which, I can tell you were in rather pressing circumstances, he got it into his head that he was the only one who would be able to marry us right."

"So, he actually presided over the entire ceremony?" Marie nodded. Elizabeth shook her head. "I knew that you two were hardly what could be called a normal couple, but not even I thought you would do something like that."

"I don't see why it should be so surprising to you. Jack is the Captain of a ship after all. If Will were here right now, he could marry you both right now. And he didn't actually do to badly. He got a little long-winded, of course, but luckily I was able to keep him from getting too much out of a hand."

"So, it could be said that you both married each other. That doesn't even make sense. I'm not sure if being your sister-in-law would be the best thing for my sanity."

"Truth be told, Elizabeth, you have more to worry about than having me for a sister."

"And what would that be?"

Marie shirted her eyes to glance at Jack, who had just come into view and was lounging by the railing, seemingly looking at everything but them, though he was trying really hard to eavesdrop on every word they were saying. "Well, when Will at last gets a chance to marry you, and I become your sister, then Jack, technically, will become your brother."

Elizabeth stared at Marie for a moment, wide-eyed, but then a smile began to grow on her mouth, and she was struggling to keep herself from laughing. "Is Jack really as "lacking" is his "performance" like you said earlier?"

Marie was also struggling to keep from laughing. "Let's just say that he has a talent for exaggerated many things, but sometimes, he can really speak the truth and deliver it. Tell me, how's Will's sword play now that he has you for an opponent?"

"I have yet to experience all that he can do, Marie, so I cannot give a complete answer. But, let me just say that Will has an excellent thrust, which I haven't yet been able to parry."

That did it; both Marie and Elizabeth broke into smothered giggles. Marie caught Jack's eyes staring at them surreptitiously. He turned away as soon as he realized that she had caught him snooping. Even so, Marie was curious to see just how much he had overheard. She began to wonder if perhaps Jack might have had some reason for being there. Maybe he was scoping out a challenge, and quite frankly, she was in the mood for one.

But that could wait until she had finished with Elizabeth. Once their fit of laughing has passed, she continued in a more serious, but still light-hearted manner. "But, Elizabeth, I do hope that you and Will get married soon. you deserve it after all you've gone through. Plus, I have my own selfish reasons."

"Oh, really, such as?"

"I always wanted a sister. I used to look at you and Emma and be jealous that I could share the bonds that you two had. I know what you're going to say: I have Will, but there are only certain things that you can tell to a brother."

"Like what we just said about the?" asked Elizabeth, with a wicked grin.

"Exactly." Said Marie, returning the grin.

"I shall be glad to have you for a sister, Marie. It certainly won't be boring."

"We've been friends long enough that I don't think that there is much to stand in the way of us getting along like sisters (AN dramatic irony right there.) And as for your marriage, please don't worry about it. Trust me, you will never find a journey so fraught with trials, or having so many blessings."

Elizabeth nodded, grateful for the advice. "I don't suppose that you have any way of getting Will away from Davy Jones and here so we could get married any faster?"

Marie's heart tightened for a moment at the mention of Will and the part in the deception she had played on Elizabeth to get her to join in this venture. After all, it wasn't like she had told the complete truth about how Will actually ended up on the _Dutchman_ in the first place. Nonetheless, she buried such feelings and forced herself to be optimistic. There was really no point in telling Elizabeth now. She suspected that she would find out soon enough anyway. "Just be patient, Elizabeth. He'll he all right, I promise."

Feeling that their conversation had reached a satisfactory end, she got to her feet. "If you ever need to talk, please don't hesitate to ask."

"You've already helped me, thank you." Suddenly realizing that she was still holding the bottle of rum that Marie had handed her, she tried to give it back, but Marie held up her hand.

"Keep it, you need it more that I do right now."

She left Elizabeth (now much more cheered in disposition), and wondered over to Jack, in a way which made it obvious that it had not been an accident. "Do I dare ask what you two were talking about?" he asked, when she came near.

"Why should you want to know?" asked Marie, airily.

"Because I have the uneasy feeling that you were talking about me, and it has been my experience that when two women are talking in secretive whispers, it can never mean anything good for the men in their lives."

"And when did you become such an expert on the conversational habits of my sex?"

"I've told you before, luv, my intuitive sense of the female creature."

"Yes, you've often claimed to have that sixth sense, but it has been rather more of _sick_ sense if you ask me."

Jack, seeing that he wasn't getting anywhere, admitted, "Okay, maybe I got some idea by the fact that you two were glancing over here and giggling. But I did have some idea of what you were talking about before that."

"Of course you did, Jack. And since that wonderfully intuitive sense of yours is so acute, I suppose that I don't need to tell you any specifics of what we were talking about."

"Well," said Jack, clearing his throat awkwardly, "maybe you could give me a hint."

"Fine, I'll take pity on you. And you really have nothing to worry about. She was just feeling a little depressed about Will's absence and I cheered her up."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

"She was curious about marriage, so she asked me what it was like being married to you, and I told her."

"Which version did you use?"

"The true one, actually. I thought it the best one considering the mood that she was in. So, are you satisfied?"

"I don't suspect that you would tell me anymore if I asked?"

"No, I wouldn't."

"Then I suppose that I'll have to be content with what I have." Conceded Jack. He actually was rather enjoying this little game. Their easy banter had become quite strained over the last few months, and he had quite frankly grown to miss them. He meant to remedy that right now; he had tested the waters and found her willing, perhaps, to go a bit further with the game than words.

He moved a little closer to her, dropping his voice, "And since we're on the subject of Elizabeth, I don't think that I ever really noticed just how similar me an' her are."

Marie cut Jack a sharp look. "Jack, you're five seconds from taking a swim in the ocean and no one is going to be yelling man overboard."

"Now, don't start goin' all jealous on me. The last thing I want is two beautiful women fightin' over me. Besides, I was just committing on a certain fact."

"And that fact would be what, I pray?"

"Like I said, the similarity between me and Lizzy. We are both of us very much alike, when you stop and think about it."

"Oh, yes, except for a sense of honor, and decency, and a moral center," she gave Jack a cursory inspection, "and personal hygiene, you could almost be mistaken for the same person."

"The lack of or possessing of any of the above character traits on my person has never seemed to bother you before. Besides, those are trifles. Lizzy may be a Governor's daughter but she has always been a pirate at heart. She will come over to my side, I know it."

"You seem very certain."

Jack moved in closer to Marie, and said in a low, seductive tone, "One word, luv, curiosity. Now, take you, for example, you are a perfect example of what I am trying to say."

"I thought that we were talking about Elizabeth." Said Marie, innocently, but she was inwardly thrilled. Jack was flirting with her, trying to seduce her. It was exactly the game that they had used to play so often before this whole crazy business had started, and she was ready to give as good as she got.

"Marie, please, don't try and change the subject."

"I don't recall that this conversation even had a subject to begin with."

"Curiosity." Repeated Jack, in that same sultry voice that made her shiver with anticipation. "Namely, at this moment, your curiosity. You longed for freedom; you longed to do what you wanted to do because you wanted it, to act on selfish impulse. You wanted to see what it was like. One day, you weren't able to resist."

Jack stepped back, looking rather pleased with himself. Marie, however, wasn't one to surrender easily.

"Jack," she said, "why doesn't your compass work?"

Jack's smug look faltered. "My compass works fine." He sputtered. He was familiar with this little play of Marie's: bring up a point that seemed to have nothing to do with the subject, but which she somehow always managed to connect in a perfectly logical way. To be frank, it always threw him off for a few seconds.

Marie, knowing that she had managed to catch Jack up, continued to press her advantage. "Because if you and Elizabeth are so much alike and if she is likely to come over to your side, than you will have the chance to show a similarity to her; namely, to do the right thing."

"I love those moments." Said Jack, trying to regain some control over the game. He walked off a little ways and gestured off to sea. "I like to wave at them as they pass by."

But she wasn't about to let him go so easily. "You'll have the chance to do something, something courageous and when you do you'll discover something: that you're a good man."

"All evidence to the contrary." Retorted Jack.

"Really? Well, I have to tell you, Jack, that some part of must at least aspire to being a good man, or I wouldn't have fallen in love with you, much less considered marrying you." Jack was silent; he didn't seem to have any good answer to this. "Oh, I'm not worried. I have faith in you. Want to know why?"

"Do tell, dearie."

"Curiosity," Marie fairly purred, leaning closer to Jack as she continued, "You're going to want it, a chance to be admired and gain the rewards that follow." She was barely a breath's space from Jack's face, and he was obviously feeling the effects of the seductive energy that was radiating off of her. He was only seconds away from breaking. Marie allowed herself a smile of triumph; she was enjoying this more than she had thought she would. "You won't be able to resist. You're going to want to know, what it tastes like."

Marie's guess had been right; Jack was close to breaking. In fact, he had already accepted surrender. After all, when a beautiful, witty and highly skilled seductress of a woman has already made up her mind to lure you into her grasp, what man can resist? It was an added bonus for Jack that Marie was his wife, which meant that he didn't need to feel guilty about surrendering to temptation, not that he would have allowed a thing like guilt tot stop him from doing what he wanted in normal circumstances.

"I do want to know what it tastes like." He murmured huskily, as he ran his fingers across her face.

"It's about time that you wanted too." She murmured back in her own sultry whisper.

Jack pressed his lips against hers, kissing her passionately. Seeing as this was the first time such a game of seduction had been taken this far, he made sure that she would enjoy it. Jack found himself asking himself why on earth he had thought it best to shout out this gorgeous, witty woman and keep all of his troubles to himself, at the time when he had really needed her most. Jack resolved that once all this was over, he would make it up to her, in more ways than one.

He reached up with his hand, intending to draw her body closer to him, but he froze almost instantly. The ugly Black Spot which he had nearly forgotten about in the last few days had come back before his very eyes. His all too brief reprieve was over. Davy Jones was on the hunt again, and this time, he wouldn't be showing any mercy.

The shock of this sudden revelation caused Jack to break off his kiss with Marie rather abruptly, which he sort of regretted having to do, but he was also more worried about what he should be doing next.

Marie, left cold momentarily without the warmth of his body, knew at once by the look on his face that something had happened. "Jack, what is it?" she then saw the Black Spot, and made the same connection that Jack had. "I knew this was too good to be true."

Jack was too filled with dumb horror to respond. But suddenly there was a call from the lookout in the crow's next high above them. "Land ho!"

Both Jack and Marie turned to the south, and a great majority of the crew also ran to the side to a look at their destination, a blotch of sandy ground that was rapidly growing larger. The _Black Pearl_ had made it at last.

For Jack, the sight awakened in him nervous energy. No sooner had he seen the island then he muttered, "I want my jar of dirt." And bolted for his cabin.

Marie, who had been looking at the island with a mix of trepidation and hope, turned around at the sound of his voice, only to find that he wasn't there. She could well understand his anxiety. There was no other place to hide for Jack, nor did he have time. The sands had truly run out for him. On this island, they would either find the answer to all their problems or it would be the end of all that they had worked for.

* * *

Well, we are now moving into the final stages, as it were. Luckily, now that it is Christmas Break, and I have absolutely nothing to do, I am going to have a lot fo time to update this story. Think of it as a Christmas gift that will keep on giving for the next few weeks. I have that everyone is having a wonderful holiday season. Read and review this chapter, but go and spend time with family.

Next chapter: The Isla Cruces, the obligatory creepy island sequence of any self-respecting pirate movie. On this island, the Dead Mna's Chest supposedly lurks, but who will claim it? And before they go, who will be changed and who will be left behind?


	40. Chapter 40: The Chest

Yes, I am updating within three days, and on Christmas Eve. This is my Christmas gift to all of my readers. Please enjoy it.

Chapter 40: The Chest

It was long before Jack, Marie, Elizabeth and Norrington, along with Pintel and Ragetti were all piled into a longboat and were rowing to the island, or to be more accurate to the role of each party involved, Pintel and Ragetti were rowing. As usual, they had been stuck with the menial labor, and, also as usual, they were arguing while doing it.

"You're pullin' to fast." Remarked Pintel to his companion.

"You're pullin' to slow." Said Ragetti, "We don't the kracken to catch us."

"I'm savin' my strength for when it comes." Said Pintel, irately, "An' I don't think it's called Kracken anyways. I always heard it pronounced krayken."

"Wha'? with a long 'a.'"

"Yea."

"No, no, no. Krocken is how it's pronounced in the original Scandinavian, and kracken is closer to that."

"Well, we ain't original Scandinavians, are we?" huffed Pintel, before sticking to his own pronunciation, which, in his opinion, was the only correct way to say the word. "Kracken."

"It's a mythological creature, I can calls it wha' I wants." Ragetti persisted petulantly.

Marie, who had been listening to this conversation with mounting impatience, finally had heard enough and broke into the debate sharply. "Tell me this, it it's a mythological creature, why are we so concerned about trying to get away from it?" Both Pintel and Ragetti paused in mid-flight and looked at her, "If you want to avoid eating by some oversized squid, than I suggest you stop worrying about what to call it and start focusing on your rowing."

Pintel and Ragetti were intelligent enough to catch the warning inherent in Marie's words. Thoroughly cowed and casting nervous glances at the water, they began rowing much faster.

Marie turned to Jack, who was sitting in the prow of the longboat, clutching the jar of dirt to him, as if he were afraid that it would suddenly vanish. "And we brought them along because?"

Jack was a bundle of nerves, and he was too distracted to give a long answer. "They're expendable."

To which Marie could only respond, "Ah."

Thanks to the enthusiastic (albeit uneven) rowing of both Pintel and Ragetti, the party made it to the island's shore in the next few minutes. Jack had somehow managed to recover enough of him by this time that he could curtly order Pintel and Ragetti, "Watch the boat, mind the tide, don't touch my dirt."

Marie rolled her eyes and started out with Elizabeth, Jack and Norrington on their hunt for the elusive dead man's chest.

The further that the little group ventured into the mainland of the island, the more they began to be aware of it's very strange nature. There was not a sound to be heard, beyond the crashing of the waves against the shoreline. The wind sounded a lonesome and haunting song across the empty land. In all directions, there was no sign of life, either of humans or animals.

As they continued walking along the sandy beach, following the point of the compass that was still holding steady for Elizabeth, they caught sight of the crumbling remnants of a church tower and the scattered gravestones of a cemetery. It was obvious that at some point in the past the island had been the sight of human habitation. That was almost more disturbing than if the island had always been unpeopled and empty. Who knew what terrible calamity had wiped out the entire population? And who had been left behind to bury the last victims? Marie could hardly imagine the awful despair, loneliness and terror left for that one survivor who was left with no hope of human companionship, with no even to give that one last person a decent burial. No doubt madness would have been the only retreat left. She shuddered and looked away from the ruins. She was not one to give much though to superstition and ghost stories, but she could hardly stop the thought which crossed her mind, there might still be some spirit of deceased islanders haunting the forest that dominated the center of the island. Perhaps, the landing party was not as alone as they had first thought.

None of them spoke in the strange emptiness that engulfed the entire island. But they all felt it, and they were all visibly relieved by the fact that the compass didn't lead them anywhere near the spooky ruins, but towards the dunes of the shoreline a little more than half-a-mile from where they had left the longboat.

They were wandering among the dunes, which were little more than big heaps of sand placed in random patterns along the shoreline, and they began to wander about them in such an aimless way that Marie eventually began to wonder if they should be putting so much faith in a compass that had been known to malfunction in the past.

But, in between two hummocks of sand, something strange began to happen. Elizabeth, who was in the lead suddenly stopped. The compass which had been pointing straight ahead, shifted back in the direction that they had just gone. Elizabeth, confused, tried backtracking a few paces, only to have the compass shift yet again. Elizabeth looked in the direction that the compass was pointing, only to find that she was looking straight at Jack, who ws standing with Marie. It looked like the two of them were conversing in low tones, and judging by both their animated gestures and expression; they were discussing something on which that had opposing views. Jack seemed by turns, to be both annoyed with and enjoying the exchange.

Elizabeth shook her head and shook the compass a little, only to have it point in the same direction. She blushed at the implication that this meant. Except, Jack wasn't the thing that she wanted most; sure, she was hardly immune to all of Jack's charms, and he could be very charming when he wanted to be. She might have admitted to the odd fantasy, but the thought of actually wanting him above everything else made her simply exhausted.

Elizabeth, overcome at last with frustration, plopped down on the sand. "This doesn't work." She flustered, "It certainly doesn't tell you what you want most."

Jack, upon hearing this, came over to the place where Elizabeth was sitting and looked down at the compass, which was now beside Elizabeth. He saw the compass needle shift yet again, this time pointing directly where Elizabeth was sitting.

Jack instantly perceived what the compass was trying to say. "Yes, it does. You're sitting on it."

Elizabeth turned her head to look at Jack, a puzzled expression on her face. "I beg your pardon?"

"Move." Said Jack, motioning her to get up from the place where she was sitting.

Elizabeth, still slightly mystified, scrambled to her feet and moved away a few paces. Jack, turning his attention to Norrington, whistled at the former Commodore, pointing to the spot where Elizabeth had been sitting.

Norrington, who had been stuck carrying the shovels, now was stuck with the task of doing the digging, and it was clear that Jack wouldn't be helping. With an annoyed glance, Norrington dropped one of the shovels and striking the other one into the sandy earth, started digging.

Minutes passed. The hole grew deeper. Jack assumed a pose of meditation, though what on earth he would need to meditate on, Marie had not the slightest idea. And Marie highly doubted that he would reach any sort of spiritual plain, not when Jack believed that rum could achieve the same thing in a much quicker amount of time. Marie opted to sit next Elizabeth, though. If Jack did happen to start spouting philosophical platitudes, she wanted to be as far away from him possible.

More minutes passed, Norrington continued digging; it seemed as if this was not going anywhere. Marie, who had always been somewhat lacking in the virtue of patience, was about to scream with sheer boredom when suddenly-

CLUNK!

The decided sound of a metal shovel striking against an object broke the monotony of the past few minutes. They all heard it, and Norrington stopped digging and seemed to be staring at something intently in the earth below him. Jack, Marie and Elizabeth gathered around the hole and peered into it. Hurriedly, the group lifted the box from the ground. It was obvious that this could not be the fabled Chest which they had been looking for. The wood was rotted with age and the lock was rusted to the point that a good thwack from a shovel was all that it took to shatter it. However, within the box itself were remnants of letters and necklaces that looked like they had been made from the purest ocean pearls and the most beautiful sea shells, as well as other articles that one might expect to find in a love suit. Only they had to be buried, hidden away, as if someone had been so broken by love that they had wanted to forever forget that part of their lives.

But it was not just love letters and other remembrances in the box, there was also an iron chest, covered in carvings of sea creatures and untouched by the weathered hands of time. Carefully, Jack took hold of the chest and lifted it out of the box. All four of them leaned over the chest, listening breathlessly, though they were not sure what it was exactly they were listening for.

And in the silence, they heard emanating from the confines of the chest, the steady beat of a heart. They had found it, the infamous Dead Man's Chest.

"It's real." Murmured Elizabeth, in awe.

"You actually were telling the truth." Said Norrington to Jack.

"I do that quite a lot," Jack replied, "yet people are always surprised."

"With good reason." A new voice suddenly declared from behind them.

Surprised, they all turned as one to look behind them, only to see the last person they might have expected to see at the moment: it was Will.

Elizabeth's expression instantly melted from surprise into heartfelt relief. "Will!" She ran up and embraced him, "You're all right, thank God. I came to find you."

Will seemed no less happy to see Elizabeth, if the embrace he returned and the passionate kiss he gave her was any indication seeing as how the last time they had seen each other, their futures had been uncertain, such relief was hardly a surprise.

The lovers' reunion was met with silence from its three witnesses. Marie was glad to see that Will was all right, but there was something about his appearance which seemed different. It was subtle enough that no one but she knew Will so well would have been able to catch it. It was the harder set of his eyes, the tone of his voice, small things about the way he moved made her see that something had happened to him in the short span of a few days, something that had changed him completely. She couldn't tell Norrington's reaction. His face was strangely nebulous, not exactly blank, but his emotions were anything but clear. For some reason that disturbed her almost as much as that look in Will's face.

Jack's reaction at seeing Will was certainly the clearest of anyone present. He was clearly surprised. "How did you get here?"

Will, still holding Elizabeth tightly in his arms, turned a piercing gaze on Jack. "Sea turtles, mate," he replied, with biting sarcasm, "a pair of them strapped to my feet."

Marie as taken aback by the harsh tone in Will's strong words, as seemed Jack. "Not so easy, is it?" said Jack, with an uneasy smile.

Will wasn't about to be pacified. He obviously hadn't forgotten the fact that Jack had betrayed him and he wasn't about to let him forget it. "But, I do owe you thanks, Jack."

Jack's uneasy smile, not very strong to begin with, faded altogether. "You do?" Jack had clearly no idea what he was talking about.

"After you tricked me onto that ship to square your debt with Jones…"

"What?" cried Elizabeth, in astonishment back at Jack.

"What?" said Jack, unthinkingly miming Elizabeth.

Will continued, "I was reunited with my father."

It was Marie's turn to be astonished. "Will, our father?"

"Well, you're welcome, than." Said Jack, trying to make like of the situation, and his role in bringing it about.

Marie was still trying to wrap her mind around what her brother had just said. "Will, you saw our father?"

"And talked with him." said Will, "He wishes you luck in being married to Jack. I think he knew that you would need it."

Marie didn't know what to say to Will's sudden hostility. What had happened to her brother on the _Flying Dutchman_ that had made him change so much?"

Elizabeth, realizing that she had been tricked, came towards Jack, looking angry enough to murder him and make it look easy. "Everything you said, every word was a lie."

"Pretty much." Jack admitted, rather awkwardly, even if it was also clear that he had no sense of regret for his actions. "Time and tide, luv."

Elizabeth looked at Marie, "And you, did you know about this?"

"I might have." Said Marie, after a moment.

Before anything else could be said on the matter (which might have been best considering the direction it was going), because at that moment, attention was drawn to the fact that Will had removed, from around his neck, a key that was threaded through a piece of leather string. Marie was startled to recognize it as the key that had been painted on the piece of long forgotten cloth: the key to Chest of Davy Jones.

Will was kneeling by The Chest, the key in one hand and a small, but deadly looking knife in the other. There was an intense, single-minded look on his face, and again Marie felt that same sense of foreboding.

"Oi," said Jack, who had noticed the same thing, "what are you doing?"

"I'm gonna kill Jones."

Marie gasped. "Will, are you sure that's wise?"

"I made promise to my father." Said Will, without looking at her, "I told him I would set him free, and the only way to do that it to kill the captain of the _Flying Dutchman_."

So, that was it. Will had made a promise that he fully intended to keep, whatever he had to do to fulfill it, whatever it cost him. That was why she felt suddenly so disturbed by Will's behavior.

However, before she could even think further on this, Jack had suddenly drawn his sword and had it pointed it straight at Will's throat. When he spoke, his voice had become low and dangerous. "Can't let you do that, William. Because if you kill Jones, who's to call his terrible beastie off the hunt, eh?"

Will looked from the point of Jack's sword, to Jack himself. He seemed to get the point that Jack was trying to make. He drew back from The Chest, got to his feet, and then moved quicker than lightening to draw Elizabeth's sword, and pointed it at Jack. "I keep the promises I make, Jack. I intend to free my father. I hope you here to see it."

At that moment, Norrington whipped out his own weapon and had it aimed at Will. "I can't you do that, either. So sorry." His voice was harsh and biting. His face, before unreadable, was now a mask of anger and desperation.

"I knew you'd warm up to me eventually." Said Jack, moving forward to take possession of The Chest, thinking that he had found an ally in Norrington at last.

That thought lasted as long as it took Norrington to shift his sword from threatening Will to threatening Jack, which was all of half-a-second. Will, in his own turn, had pointed his sword at Norrington, and Jack, not to be outdone, had his sword aimed at Will.

Both Marie and Elizabeth had not said a single thing during this whole exchange. Mostly, because they were so astounded by this example of the flaunting of male egos that they neither of them could think of anything to say that wouldn't make the situation worse than it already was.

"Lord Beckett desires the contents of that Chest." Growled Norrington, he had been waiting for his opportune moment ever since they had arrived on the Isla Cruces. Now that it was in sight, he had no intention of letting anything stand in his way, even if the odds seemed against him. "I deliver it, my life and the safety of my wife will be guaranteed."

"Ah," said Jack, with a sardonic smile, "the dark side of ambition masquerading as love and concern."

"Oh, I prefer to see it as the promise of security, not to mention redemption." And with that last biting comment, Norrington lunged forward and attacked. The time for talking was clearly over.

The next instant, Will, Jack and Norrington were all locked in a three-way swordfight for the key. They seemed intent on killing each other. In the blink of an eye, they had gone from standing over The Chest, to moving further inland.

Norrington was locking swords with Will, when Jack snitched the key and dashed off with it. Norrington gave Will a swift kick in the stomach, forcing him to collapse on a heap on the sand. Both Marie and Elizabeth ran up to him. "Will, she cried worriedly.

But she needn't have bothered. "Guard The Chest." Was his short request, before leaping to his feet and charging after the other two combatants.

Marie and Elizabeth had finally witnessed enough. "No!" cried Elizabeth, as she and Marie ran after the three men.

"What good will guarding this stupid Chest do if all three of you end up killing each other for the sake of egos?" was Marie exasperated question.

"Stop! This is no way for grown men too-"

Elizabeth saw that it wasn't working. Jack, Norrington and Will were too caught up in typical male posturing to listen to any sort of sense.

By this time, both Marie and Elizabeth had worked themselves into fine tempers. Whether or not what they said actually made any difference to the situation really didn't matter at this point; keeping silent at this point was impossible. So, almost at the exact same time, they shouted.

"If it hadn't been for us women, the human race would have disappeared thanks to boneheads like you!"

"Fine, let's just start pulling out our swords and start banging away at each other. That will solve everything!"

Their calls went unheeded, the men simply continued fighting, as if nothing in the world was suddenly more important than running around in circles waving sharp objects at each other, risking the chance of impaling each other, all for the sake of one little key.

Elizabeth had had enough. Completely fed up and angered at this unexpected turn of events, screamed, "I've had it! I've had it with wobbly-legged, rum-soaked pirates!!!"

Even Marie, who was equally irate as Elizabeth, stopped short and stared at her. She couldn't think of anything to say that would more concisely sum up her feelings on this occasion.

Elizabeth, not content with merely screaming her discontent, picked up rocks and started flinging them at the fighting trio. Unfortunately, they landed rather short of the intended target, which did nothing to improve her temper.

And it was in this state of chaos that Pintel and Ragetti came running up. Unnoticed, they watched the scene before them, confused and puzzled. "'ow'd this go all screwy?" asked Pintel, at last.

"Well," said Ragetti, eagerly filling his friend in on all the detailed particulars, "Each wants The Chest for hissself, don't 'e? Norrington is tryin' to regain a bit of honor. Ole Jack's lookin' to save 'is own skin, and young Turner, I think 'e's tryin' to solve some unfinished business between 'im and twice-cursed pirate father."

While Ragetti seemed rather pleased with himself at this explanation, Pintel still wasn't entirely sure he knew what was going on. "Sad." He commented.

A moment of silence, as they watched the scene, than Pintel glancing toward the now forgotten and unguarded Dead Men's Chest, said, in a greedy half-whisper. "That Chest must be worth more than a shiny penny."

Ragetti nodded, not having caught the hint that Pintel had dropped. "Terrible temptation."

Pintel caught the eye of his companion. "If we was any kind o' decent, we would remove temptation from their path."

Ragetti caught what he was trying to say this time. Laughing like two naughty children, they scampered off.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth (neither she nor Marie having seen or heard the two pirates), finally gave up the futile exercise of flinging rocks at Norrington, Jack, and Will, who were rapidly getting further and further away.

"Enough!" Elizabeth tried one last time. Nothing. Desperate by this time, she tried the old standby. "Ohh, the heat." She cried melodramatically and collapsed on the sand. She waited a few seconds, then opened one of her eyes. The three men were still fighting as intensely as ever. Not even Will bothered so much as to throw a glance in their direction. She and Marie might as well not have existed. Huffing with annoyance, Elizabeth sat up and began to sulk.

Well, that worked well." Commented Marie, as she sat down beside Elizabeth.

"It's worked before."

"I'm sure it has. But don't worry, Elizabeth. If there's anything that being in a shipful of men for the past year had taught me, it's that men eventually see reason, even if it takes them awhile. Give them the chance to get it out of their system, than we can work out a situation that will be mutually exclusive to all parties."

Elizabeth looked at her skeptically. "You don't actually believe that, do you?"

"Not really, but if there' anything else I've learned about living on a shipful of men for the past year, it's to be optimistic."

Elizabeth sighed and turned her eyes back toward where Will, Jack, and Norrington were rapidly vanishing. Whether or not what Marie had said was true, she was right in one sense: the two of them now had no choice but to wait.

But that even would not be as easy as they had at first thought. For no sooner had they resigned themselves to doing nothing, then Marie caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head, only to see Pintel and Ragetti running away, carrying the precious Chest between them.

She pocked Elizabeth in the arm, and pointed after the two would-be thieves. Elizabeth instantly sprang to her feet and together the two dashed off after Pintel and Ragetti.

The chase and the fight was on.

* * *

As always, read and review, Merry Christmas.

Next chapter: The fight is on for the key and the chase is on for The Chest? Who will win, and who will lose?


	41. Chapter 41: Wheel of Fortune

Here is the next chapter. I am just cranking them out, aren't I? Well, I have nothing else to do, so I might as well sit in front of the computer for hours on end and type until my fingers fall off. Enjoy!

Chapter 42: Wheel of Fortune

Jack, James and Will were in the thick of the fight. When not viewed for the reason which they were fighting in the first place, it was nothing short of an amazing sight.

Three men, three very different fighting styles, thrown together in a setting that would challenge them in ways that they had never before experienced.

All three had set their minds on winning this fight and it carried through in their fighting. The bright sunlight flashed over the blades of their swords, the clanging of steel against steel sounded in deadly counterpoint, as they parried and attacked, feinted and thrust, often at the same time or the one in the heartbeat of the other.

Sword fighting is very much like a symphony, it has its own movement, and within each movement, different variations on the same theme appear. So it was with this fight. All of them were determined to get the key, a simple enough theme, but who would ultimately get it and how would prove to be a far more complex problem.

James, Jack and Will were running along the beach. First it was Jack fighting James, then Jack and Will, with whoever was left behind, running to catch up.

They eventually caught up all three to each other, their swords clashed so quickly, moving so swiftly in their dance of steel that it was beyond the ability of the normal human eye to keep track of which sword was where, who was wielding, or where the blade might strike next.

However, such a fight, though a challenge was hardly beyond the ability of these three master swordsmen. Will, who had practiced all his life to become on of the best swordsmen in Port Royal, far exceeding even some of men in the Royal Navy.

And Jack, who had learned to be quick of hand and nimble of foot because of the life that he lived; it paid to be able to have the ability to be just a little quicker than your opponent, or in this case, opponents.

Than, there was James, who was more than able to hold his own against a young former blacksmith and a notorious pirate. He may have had his training from the Navy, but the early years of his life had been spent aboard the training vessels of his father, and he had learned a thing or two from him that Jack and Will had never heard of. James was capable of fighting with the same intensity and grimy determination that marked Jack and Will's styles, something that, when they remembered the course of the fight, would surprise them both.

These three different styles harmonized and counter pointed at the same time to create a truly magnificent duel of skill and endurance. And however similar or not their styles might have been, there was one other element that joined all three of them: they had come to the point where they were willing to cheat in order to get what they wanted.

But this fight, however amazing the skills of those involved, would better to never have been started. For what did it involve, beyond the petty squabbling of male egos? The whole situation could have been better solved and much easier to resolve.

* * *

Meanwhile, down on the beach, a new threat was about to rear it's head, for the _Flying Dutchman_had arrived at last at the Isla Cruces. From the shallow waters of the shoreline began to emerge monstrous heads, attached to even more repulsive bodies. The only resemblance might have had to human beings stopped at the fact that they could walk upright. Their bodies were covered in the living things of the sea, both plant and animal. They wielded strange, alien weapons, ugly and frightening, made to kill without thought or mercy. Indeed some of these creatures had grown so far beyond their original human shapes that soul and conscious had died within them. They now existed for the absolute, fiendish delight in taking the lives of other people they thrived on.

The hellish, nightmarish creatures clambered up from the sea and up the beach. They made it to the hole that had been dug some time before, and the open, empty wooden box beside it. They paused here, wondering and muttering unintelligible amongst themselves as to where The Chest could be. Obviously, the had gotten there to late, and though they were all beyond the normal sphere of human emotions, they were not yet incapable of feeling the terror that the disapproving rage that their supernatural master could still inspire in them.

BONG!!

At that instant, they were literally saved by the bell. As one, they looked to the north, where the sound had come from, and saw the ruined church tower. The idea seemed to dawn on them all at the same time: that was where their intended victims had run and they had the precious Chest with them.

Letting loose bone-chilling roars, the whole cadre of terrifying creatures charged forward, fully intent on recovering the stolen property that had been stolen from their master, and dolling out the proper punishment to the thieves.

* * *

Meanwhile, completely unaware of these events, Pintel and Ragetti were dashing madly through the forest, carrying the prize Chest between them, cackling and laughing delightedly. What exactly they were going to do with their treasure they did not know, but others wanted it and that made it seem precious enough. That was as good a reason for them to steal it.

But, just when they were congratulating themselves on their escape, who should they find blocking their path, but Marie and Elizabeth. Elizabeth, smiling with satisfaction, reached for her sword, only to remember that it wasn't there, because Will, because he hadn't had one of his own in the first place. She glanced back up at Pintel and Ragetti, her smirk turning to an expression of acute embarrassment.

Pintel and Ragetti exchanged gleeful looks. Dropping The Chest, they drew their swords in a threatening manner, and Pintel said, "'ello, Puppet."

Marie, not having any intention of becoming easy prey, drew the one sword that she had strapped to her waist and the other that was slung on her back. "This," she said, to Elizabeth out of the side of her mouth, "is why you should fight with two sides. You always have one to spare."

Pintel and Ragetti were a little daunted by this, but still, they weren't about to relinquish their stolen property so soon. They began advancing on the two women who backed up, cautiously; neither seemed to want to be the first to strike a blow.

Suddenly, all attention was diverted when all four began to hear the sound of something very big that was barreling through the forest, and the slash, faint but addible of metal upon metal. They looked in the direction of the sound and were met with one of the strangest sights any of them had ever beheld.

A mill wheel was rolling right by them. The fact that such a thing was happening in the middle of a seemingly deserted forest might have been odd enough in itself, but that was nothing compared to what was going on top of the wheel. James and Will were locked in what seemed to be a death struggle on top, somehow managing to keep their balance on the continually rolling wheel at the same time. Jack was running after the wheel, waving his arms in agitation and shouting incoherent swear words at both the wheel and the two combatants on top.

Marie and Elizabeth stared at this bizarre sighting in open-mouthed shock before turning to look at each other. They were both thinking the same thing: what on earth had just happened and how had their hare-brained male counterpoints managed to get themselves into a mess such as that?

For Pintel and Ragetti, however, the situation was much easier to sort out. They looked at each other, shrugged and turned their wickedly gleaming eyes back on Marie and Elizabeth.

The retreat and advance began once more and this time, both Pintel and Ragetti seemed serious, a fight seemed inevitable.

But at the very instant when the tension seemed to be at it's breaking point, as axe zipped out of nowhere from behind and buried itself in a tree right beside them.

Marie, Elizabeth, Pintel, and Ragetti looked at the axe, than looked behind them and what they saw caused the blood to freeze in their veins. The mutated fish-men of the _Flying Dutchman_ were crashing through the forest, yelling and screaming terrible things that none of them could really understand, but which they none of them wanted to find out about.

They were headed straight for them. Pintel and Ragetti, the first to move to a quick exit when danger reared its ugly head, began scooting backwards. They almost bumped into Elizabeth, unconsciously handing her their swords as they passed. Elizabeth was still staring in horrified shock at the monsters which were coming rapidly nearer, but when Pintel and Ragetti picked up The Chest from where they had dropped it and began dashing off into the forest, neither Marie nor Elizabeth were slow to follow.

The crew of Davy Jones chased after the little group, and the fear which they had felt at first only increased the longer the chase went on. In fact, Elizabeth and Marie abandoned their normal firm resolve and screamed in terror when they looked back and saw that the monsters were advancing rapidly.

Pintel and Ragetti, running with The Chest between them somehow managed to smash the thing into a tree, which knocked the thing from his hands. They all stopped, looking at the place where it had fallen, but before any of them could think of picking it up, the crew of Davy Jones barreled down upon them, which pretty much expelled any thought of retrieving The Chest from their minds.

One of the creatures in the lead raised his weapon and headed straight for Elizabeth. Remembering all the lessons that Will had taught her in the past few months within a few seconds, Elizabeth instantly raised the two swords above her head, just in time to avoid getting her head sliced open. From that point, everything was a little blurry in the memories of those who fought this particular skirmish. It was an almost constant pattern of run, stop, fight, run some more. And since Pintel, Elizabeth and Ragetti had only two swords to pass between the three of them, it proved to be quite a challenge of knowing when to throw the sword and who should catch it. Marie, as usual in a fight this intense was so absorbed in her own quarter that she barely noticed what was happening around her, or that the three others might have appreciated the barrowing of one of her swords to even out their numbers. However, something of the pirate had sneaked into Marie during the past year: she wasn't one to share her weapons, even if the need might have been rather dire.

Another sword would have done little good in any case. It soon became clear that the crew of Davy Jones had a distinct advantage over their opponents. They were too many and because of the pact that they had made with the _Dutchman_, they could not be killed by the means of mere mortals. It was evident that though they might be able to slow them down, Marie and Elizabeth, along with Pintel and Ragetti were fighting a losing battle.

After what seemed like an eternity, Marie, having just swiped at the bellies of two fish people with one of her swords shouted at Elizabeth, "We have to get out back to shore. It's our only chance."

"Not without The Chest." Elizabeth called back, "We can't go back empty-handed, not after this."

"Where on earth are we going to start looking for it?" cried Marie, in exasperation, stabbing one of the fish people in the chest at the same time."

And no sooner had Marie said these words, than she saw two things: the first was the Dead Man's Chest, lying on the ground directly in the path of the fight. And, then she saw from the corner of her eye, Jack Sparrow, running madly through the trees, heading for the shore, looking very suspiciously as if he were trying to run from the scene of a crime.

* * *

Read and review.

Next chapter: Choices will be made by all the main characters as they struggle to leave the Isla Cruces. But who will end up with the ultimate prize, and for that one person, what will the consequences be?


	42. Chapter 42: Choice and Consequence

Chapter 42: Choice and Consequence

Jack ran madly through the shallows, to the long abandoned longboat. The tide was slowly creeping up the shore, and already the boat was floating in a foot of water. Time was running short.

Jack had not yet thought of whether he should take this opportunity to run for it. He knew that Marie wouldn't be at all happy with him if he did so. The last thing that he needed was for Marie to be angry at him (again). Instead, he was focused on making sure that he got his stolen property to a safe place. Arriving at the longboat, panting, his eyes darted around the bottom of the longboat, and he immediately spotted what he was looking for.

"Jar of dirt!" He snatched up the jar. Hastily he opened it, and dumped out some of the dirt. Taking the heart of Jones from where he had stuffed it in his shirt, he proceeded to stuff it into the jar. This may not have been what Tia Dalma had originally intended him to do with the jar of dirt, but in Jack's mind, if he had both land and the heart in the same place, then there was nothing that would be able to hurt him.

No sooner ad he snapped the lid of the jar closed when he heard a roar behind him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the crew of Davy Jones had caught up with him and was about to run him through. Before the fish person could go through with it, Jack grabbed up an oar from the longboat and blocked the weapon's thrust.

He soon saw that he wasn't going to be able to make any sort of quick get away, even if he had wished too. Marie, Elizabeth, Pintel and Ragetti were engaged in a life or death struggle of their own with a whole group of the mutated fish creatures and they were rapidly coming towards him. Jack grimaced as he fought sword to oar with his opponent. He had no idea how they were going to get out of this.

Jack wasn't the only one who was having problems at the moment. James and Will were beginning to regret their hasty action in jumping not only on the mill wheel, but also having jumped inside it. They now found themselves trapped in the runaway wheel. They had forgotten about fighting, and were not only concentrating on holding on. The wheel was rolling crazily, bumping and scraping across both the smooth and rough ground, spinning around and around, always spinning. It seemed to them that the world would never stop going in circles.

As might be gathered, this landing party had not been enjoying the best of luck. But, in a twisted version of good fortune, the wheel just happened to be rolling towards the shoreline, where their original allies (used in the loosest sense of the word, of course), were fighting off the members of Jones' crew.

The wheel rolled into the shallows and collapsed into the water with a splash. Both James and Will tumbled out of the wheel, momentarily too stunned to move.

Will, seeing that the fight was still going on in earnest, rose to his feet. "Right!" He said, decisively moving forward. Unfortunately, though the wheel had stopped spinning, Will's head had not yet caught onto the fact that the world was, in fact, solid and unmoving. His sense of balance not being what it normally was, and he got only a few steps before he fell into the water again.

James was able to regain his equilibrium much faster than Will. Observing that Sparrow's attention was all taken up, he had resolved to take advantage of this opportunity. Racing through the water to the longboat, he found what he had been expecting to find. In Sparrow's coat were the letters of Marque. He flashed a smile of triumph. Here was his deliverance, his passport for the security of his life and Emma's safety. Once he was pardoned by these letters, he would be able to ensure that Beckett never laid so much as a hand on her again. Just as he was thinking this, he suddenly noticed the damp sand that was scattered across one of the seats, and the jar of dirt. Something snapped in James' mind. He believed that he knew what was in that jar, something much more valuable than dirt.

Temptation unlike any he had never known swept over James. Would it not be best to have a back-up, in case Beckett decided that the Letters of Marque were not enough? It had already been stolen, so far as anyone was concerned, it was anybody's property now.

He chanced a glance at Jack Sparrow. He was still fighting off one of the fish people, he wasn't watching. He looked back at the jar of dirt. It would be so simple. He stood still for a moment, torn between the voice of honor whispering in one ear and the voice of the devil in the other. He thought of Emma, and he made his choice.

The fight came closer, and soon, the landing party found that they were literally surrounded, by the swiftly closing in of the fish people and the rising ocean tides. The landing party, before splintered by petty internal quarrels, now was united in the more general goal of trying to escape in one piece. However, some of them still wanted to try and lookout for their own interests.

Pintel and Ragetti had managed to get The Chest back into their clutches. Ignorant of the fact that The Chest was now, in fact, empty, and therefore utterly without any value, they threw it into the longboat and tried to make a run for it. Will, though, had managed to at least get all of his faculties together and intercepted them. He stopped the longboat from going forward, pointing his sword at the two would be thieves.

Both Pintel and Ragetti reached for their swords, searching for them in the general vicinity of their belts, only to remember after a few seconds, that they didn't have them. Looking up at Will, they shrugged and smiled with embarrassment. Before Pintel grabbed up a net from the longboat and Ragetti got a hold of the remaining oar. Brandishing their "fearsome" weapons, Pintel yelled gruffly, "Come on, Turner."

They may have been trying, indeed, they have thought that they were looked very fearsome. However, they only succeeded in both looking and sounding generally ridiculous. Will certainly wasn't in the least frightened. But attention was soon drawn in both quarters. Pintel and Ragetti found that they were under attack by the fish people, who were stepping up their attack on the group. Will was distracted by the sight of The Chest, which both Pintel and Ragetti had left forgotten on the seat of the longboat.

He picked it up. The sounds of the fight suddenly growing distant and far away, as he remembered the promise to a father whim he had had barely a chance to get to know fully, but now, here was his opportunity to fulfill it.

Jack was dealing a final blow to the fish creature and turning, at last, to look at the longboat, he saw Will, holding The Chest, that same single-minded, intense look on his face that he had seen back when this whole thing had started. Thinking quickly, he swung the oar and banged Will a good one on the side of the face. Will dropped like a sack of rocks. 'Payback.' Thought Jack with a little satisfaction, remembering the time when Will had leant him the same treatment on Isla de Muerta.

But Jack had little time to be bothered by feelings of satisfaction. The fish creatures were pushing the company back, trapping them by the side of the longboat. All their best effort wouldn't be able to beat them back. They were defeated.

Elizabeth saw Will fall (though she observed not the cause), and rushed toward him. "Leave 'im lie," Said Jack, "unless you're planning on using him to hit something with."

Marie looked around at the creatures that had hemmed them in, pressing them to the side of the longboat and leaving no chance for escape. "Well, Jack," she said, "I don't suppose that you have any brilliant escape strategies for getting us out of this."

"None that I can think up at the moment." Admitted Jack.

"We're not getting out of this." Added Elizabeth.

Their situation was desperate; it looked like there was no way out. But, than James suddenly said, "Not with The Chest." He reached into the boat, grabbing The Chest, as he yelled, "Into the boat."

Elizabeth stared at him, horrified by his unspoken suggestion. "You're mad." she sputtered.

James wasn't going to give her a chance to argue. "Don't wait for me." He said, firmly and without hesitation, before dashing past the surrounding fish people, deflecting sword blows. Once he was past them, he turned on a bust of speed and ran toward the forest, the mutated men of Jones' crew hot on his trail.

The remaining members of the landing party stood stunned for a moment. There wasn't any hope for James; he couldn't outrun them for long. He was a dead man.

However, there is a time to respect the last brave act of a doomed man, and there is a time to turn tale and run without looking back. And in Jack's mind, the latter choice seemed a rather attractive option at the moment. "I say we respect his final wish."

"Aye." Was Pintel's reply. And indeed, Jack got no argument with his suggestion as they all piled into the boat and began to row back to the relative safety of the _Black Pearl_.

Even the more liberal-minded among them did not want to consider James' ultimate fate. He had made his choice, fool-hardy though it may have been; it lay with him and him alone now, to suffer the consequences of his actions.

Jack himself was actually feeling quite relieved and beginning to feel his old confidence return, for he had in his possession now, the answer to all his problems, his passport to freedom.

But, then again, perhaps he did not.

* * *

James ran blindly through the forest, his only thought in getting as far away from the fish creatures as possible. He ran until he could run no further.

And it was only when he stood panting, leaning against one of the trees, that he found himself asking the one question he had not allowed himself to think: what had he done?

He replayed the scene of the last few minutes in his mind. He had followed through on his plan, to offer himself as a decoy so that the others could escape. Knowing that it was The Chest above all which the crew of Davy Jones wanted, he had used it to draw them away from the shore. Sure, he may have wanted to provide Elizabeth at least with a safe get away, but he had had deeper, more personal, perhaps selfish, motives.

As he had predicted, the monstrous creatures had followed him, crashing through the forest, uttering nightmarish cries which has caused his blood to run cold. He had known that he would not be able to outrun them, and he didn't want to face them alone if he was cornered. Such were the mutated former men that they could strike fear into the heart of even the most constant man.

James had run with The Chest a good way into the forest, until he suddenly tripped and fell, losing both his sword and The Chest. Crawling forward on his hands, he managed to grab hold of The Chest, while his other closed around the hilt of his sword.

But before he could take up his sword and continue his flight, a heavy, slimy, wet foot stepped down upon the blade, making it impossible for him to take it back up. Looking up, he saw the foot was attached to a pale, grey body covered with sea creatures and plants. And in a scene that was eerily reminiscent of the tale of Gawain and the Green Knight, the torso didn't have ahead, but was carrying it in his left hand.

The head, which resembled the shell of a hermit crab, was smiling at James in a cruelly patronizing manner. "Your bravery is wasted." He hissed in a cold, sibilant voice.

James rose slowly to his feet, The Chest clutched in his hands. By this time, his pursuers had caught up to him. Now, with both front and back blocked, his chances of escape had shrunk down to zero.

The severed head, perfectly aware of the impossible situation which James found himself in, continued his taunting. "I shall pry The Chest away from your cold, dead hands."

But that was where this head was deceived. Indeed, Jack, Will, even Elizabeth had been deceived by the one they had thought to be the most honest one among them. None save James alone had been aware of his true purpose in taking The Chest. It had been a bluff to cover another bluff. James had never intended to fight; he had only meant to secure the prize.

"Here you go!" He had cried, suddenly, and than throwing The Chest at the headless torso (which had caused the torso to drop his own head, which gave the head no end of consternation), he had dashed away. As he had predicted, the pursuit had not come. It was The Chest, and The Chest alone which those monsters had been after. Now they had it, the fate of one mere mortal was not their concern.

But perhaps it should have been. James put his hand over his coat where he hidden the Letters of Marque and something else. He had felt the odd, wholly disturbing sensation of holding the beating heart of a living dead man in his possession. It was he and not Jack Sparrow who laid claim to the heart of Davy Jones in the end.

And yet, he felt no triumph, no sense of relief at having won what he had fought so hard to get. Instead, the more he ran over all of his actions that had led to this point. All he felt was disgust and a nearly overpowering sense of shame.

What had he done? He knew all to well. He had sold himself completely to Beckett at the cost of nearly everything he held dear: his sense of pride, duty and honor. He had lied to his near family, fought and cheated with a man he had considered to be a friend and to one who he owed an unspoken debt of thanks. And now, he had just run, run like a coward from enemies, something he had never before dreamed of doing. And for what? Why had he had he of all people started this when he should have been the one to see sense? He had done it for Emma, he kept telling himself, though even that reasoning now was beginning to sound hollow and false. He knew that Emma would never approve of such actions, even if she would have been able to understand them. What would she say when she found out that he had done such actions in her name?

Worst of all, he now knew that he had no choice but to follow through on his deal with Beckett. There was nothing else he could do.

He tried to justify his actions, tried to tell himself that once he gave Beckett what he wanted, everything he had done would be worth it, if Emma was returned to his arms safely. But, such justification could not change what he had done. James couldn't make excuses, not this time. He knew he was guilty, of what exactly he did not know, but he somehow sensed that the consequences would be far reaching and terrible, but none so terrible as that which now dawned on him.

Within the soul of every man there is an equal capacity to harm, as well as to do good. We make the choice every day whether or not we will follow the one or the other. James, for the first time in his life, realized that he had followed temptation and in so doing, he had become the very thing that he had sworn he would one day destroy: he had become a pirate.

* * *

We are speeding towards the end. The next few chapters are going to be action-packed, so grab an extra breath while you can. For this chapter, please read and review.

Next chapter: The endgame; as the _Pearl_ takes on the _Dutchman_, loyalties are put to the test. And the ultimate challenge comes when the kracken appears. Who will survive and how will the battle end?


	43. Chapter 43: Endgame Part One

Here it is, the big kahuna, the final, epic battle against overwhelming. Of course, since this is the second movie of a trilogy, the _Black Pearl_ is doomed to defeat. However, she is still going to put up a good fight, as will every one of our heroes, even Jack at the end. Since this is such a big chapter, I have decided to post it in two sections. I sure hope that you enjoy it. I have worked really hard on this section and I am very proud of it.

Chapter 42: Endgame (Part One)

When Will came too, it was to the rocking motion of the _Pearl_'s deck beneath him, as well as to the sight of Elizabeth hovering above him. When she saw his eyes open, she smiled with obvious relief. It wasn't a bad thing to wake up to, especially considering some of the things that he had seen lately.

"Where's the Chest?" He asked, still feeling a little groggy, but remembering enough of the past few hours to ask that question (and to think, somewhat sheepishly, that he had kind of behaved like an idiot).

"James took it to draw them off." Answered Elizabeth softy, subdued at the idea of what had happened. She knew that James didn't stand a chance. She had not even begun to think how she would be able to break the news to Emma.

The deck around them was swarming with crewmen, climbing up the ratlines to let down the sails, hauling on the ropes, or in the case of Pintel and Ragetti, hauling in the longboat, and arguing about the speed at which both were pulling, which was either too fast or to slow for the other.

Marie at last managed to catch up with her husband, whom she had wanted to accost for the last hour at least, but especially after they had made their escape. Ever since they had gotten safely beyond the reach of Jones' nightmarish crew, a big grin had appeared on his face and his eyes shown with a confidence that she had not seen in a long time. And though she was as glad as anyone to see Jack looking remotely like his old self, yet she wanted to know why exactly, he was feeling so cocky. For all she could see, the expedition to the island had failed. No doubt, Jones's crew had managed to catch up with the Dead Man's Chest by now. That being the case, what on the earth did Jack have to grin about?

"Jack," she said, coming up to him and getting right to the point, "what's going on?"

"Merely everything that is desirable and hopeful, luv."

"I wish that I had your confidence."

"Relax, Marie. Just wait an' see. Everythin's goin' accordin' to plan."

"How can you say that when we didn't get the heart? You might as well call up Jones now and get it over with."

"Tell me one thing, Marie: how can you be so sure that Jones has won? Are you absolutely certain that Jones got the Chest wha' had the thump-thump in it?"

"What are you saying, Jack?" said Marie, who was beginning to get impatient with Jack's none answers.

And Jack seemed to be getting equally irritated that Marie didn't seem to be grasping the very simple concept he was trying to get across. "You know, Marie, the thump-thump. They didn't get it." He held up the jar of dirt, as if that one gesture mad everything perfectly clear.

Marie stared at Jack. "Jack, are you feeling all right?"

Jack sighed in obvious frustration. "Marie, please listen."

"I will, as soon as you start making sense."

Jack finally gave up and started walking away; with a little more than his usual swagger evident in his jaunty gait. Marie, not one to give up so easily, started after him, but before she could assault him anew, Gibbs beat her to it. He had noticed that one of the landing party was missing. "Where's the Commodore?"

"He fell behind." Was Jack's less than sorrowful reply.

Gibbs stopped, the full implications of that statement coming clear to him. "My prayers be with him." However, Gibbs had never been one to mourn for very long, "Best not wallow in our grief." He said, his tone becoming sunny once more. He followed after Jack, with Marie right behind them, up to the stern. "The bright side it, you're back and made it off free and clear."

He may have spoken too soon. At that very instant, the sea trembled violently, and with a great roar of rushing water and foam, the fearsome bow of the _Flying Dutchman_ rose out of the water, right beside the _Pearl_.

The unexpected and frightening entrance of the legendary ghost ship caused every crew member on the _Black Pearl_to freeze in dumb terror. Even Pintel and Ragetti forgot all about arguing and could only stare. Elizabeth, standing beside Will, looked at the ship before her, truly horrified. Will and Marie looked across at each other. Having been the only ones to see the full power of the _Dutchman_ up close, they alone knew the full extent of the danger that they were not in.

On the rigging and the deck, the monstrous crew of Davy Jones jeered and shouted contemptuous insults to the _Black Pearl_, waving all manner of fearsome and alien weapons. And above it all, standing like a goblin king over his gruesome court, the immense figure of over Davy Jones towered over all.

"Lord on high, deliver us." Breathed Gibbs, crossing himself in terrified awe.

Jack, alone of the crew seemed to be the only one who didn't seem nervous. In fact, he continued to act with perfect, unconcerned confidence. "I'll handle this, mate."

"Jack, are you sure…" But Jack ignored whatever Marie might have had to say on the subject, which might have been the wiser and more sensible course of action.

Instead, he strode to the railing, and called out in a loud voice. "Oi, fish face."

Jones looked down at Jack, who was holding up aloft the jar of dirt. "Lose somethin', eh? Scoungili-" Unfortunately, Jack had sort of forgotten to look where he was going in the midst of his gloating and had stepped wrong. He toppled head over heels down the stairs, causing everyone who saw him to flinch visibly. Jack, as usual, was unharmed. Indeed, he was still quite cocky of his chance. What was most important was that the jar of dirt was still in tact. He held it over the rail; he wanted to make sure that Jones got a good look at it. "Got it." He scrambled to his feet, and started swaggering along the deck, "Come to negotiate have you, ya slimy git. Look what I've got." Jack started speaking in a sing-songy tone of voice, clearly wanting to taunt Jones. "I've got a jar of dirt; I've got a dirt, and guess what's inside it."

Jack only succeeded in sounding totally absurd. Most of the crew, Elizabeth included, looked as if they couldn't believe what they were seeing. Will shot a glance at Marie, who was looking heavenward with eyes closed in exasperation, as if seeking patience, without much success.

Davy Jones, for his part, was unimpressed. Jack had greatly underestimated his advantage and he was about to get a sign that he had gone a step too far. The gun ports along the _Dutchman_'s side suddenly began opening their great jaws and extending their individual canons, all aimed straight at the _Pearl_.

When Jack saw this, his confidence more or less shattered. "Hard to starboard." He muttered, so softly that it was a wonder anyone was able to hear him, but someone did.

"Hard to starboard!" Yelled Elizabeth, and with those three words, the entire crew erupted into action.

Marie was one on the wheel almost instantly, turning the bow of the _Black Pearl_ away from the teeth of the _Dutchman_'s fire. The _Pearl_ swung to starboard, the wind catching her great sails and swelling them to their fullest extent. Unfortunately, they weren't able to miss getting grazed by the _Dutchman'_s canons. However, their move was enough to take the _Pearl_ ahead by at least a few seconds. The _Dutchman_ wasn't going to let its prey escape so easily. She turned after the _Pearl_ and the chase was on.

Sailors were swarming up the _Pearl_'s lines, letting down as much sail as could be had to catch the wind. But here was more to _Dutchman _than at first met the eye. It had been built to destroy, and more than just those obvious arms of destruction had been built into her. The captain would not hesitate to use them if he had too.

One of these weapons were the triple bow canons that thrust forth from the _Dutchman_, firing off round after round, the three canons rotating, so that the fire which pelted the _Pearl_'s retreat was continuous. The iron balls whistled through the air and struck the _Pearl_, shattering on impact, inflicting damaging and crippling blows. Jack, still clutching the jar of dirt, scurried up the wheel, and taking over from Marie, began steering the _Pearl_ in a zigzag pattern, the connection which he shared the _Pearl_ somehow telling him where the next round of fire would be coming from and Jack responding fast enough to get her out of the path of most of the canon fire.

Several minutes the chase continued, and gradually, it began to seem as if the canon fire was becoming less and less frequent. Marty, keeping lookout, shouted, "They're fallin' behind!"

Marie looked behind them, and sure enough, the _Dutchman_'s canons were now useless against the _Pearl_'s speed. They had fallen out of range. "How's that possible?" She questioned, more to herself than to anybody else.

Gibbs, Will and Elizabeth joined her in looking back at the _Dutchman_. "Aye, we've got 'er." Said Gibbs, triumphantly.

"We're the faster?" said Will, almost hopefully.

"Aye, against the wind, the _Dutchman_, that's how she takes her prey. But with the wind…"

"We rob her advantage." Finished Will, the beginnings of a new plan forming in his mind.

"Aye." Confirmed Gibbs.

The announcement that the _Dutchman_ had fallen behind was greeted with joyous shouts from the assembled crew, some of them throwing their hats into the air and dancing ecstatically. They no doubt believed that the whole thing was over and that they had won. Jack himself was smiling confidently, feeling much better about the way that things were turning out than he had just a few minutes ago.

Will came toward Jack and said, "My father is on that ship. If we can outrun her, we can take her, we should turn and fight."

Jack, however, had what he believed to be a much more sensible idea. "Why fight when you can negotiate." He set the jar of dirt on the railing in front of him and said, as if it were the answer to all their problems, "All one needs is the proper leverage."

At that very moment, the entire _Pearl_ shuddered violently and came to an abrupt halt. The sudden jolt caused everyone to stumble and grab hold of a solid object. It also caused the jar of dirt to fall fro the railing and shatter on the deck below.

Jack let out a horrified squeal, as if he had just witnessed the violent death of an old friend. Bolting down the stairs, he began pawing through the sand which was scattered around the deck. Horror mounted on horror, as he realized that not only had his precious jar of dirt been broken, the key to his freedom had not been in it. "Where is it?" He asked himself frantically, "Where is the thump-thump?"

Meanwhile, speculation was rife amongst the crew as to what had just happened. "We must 'ave it a reef." Someone in the rigging yelled.

Marie and Elizabeth had rushed to the rail, scanning the waters. Marie saw nothing that resembled a reef. However, she did notice that the waters surrounding the _Pearl_ were frothing and bubbling madly.

Will, alone among them all, knew what was happening. He had felt something very similar aboard the doomed _Edinburgh Trader_. The suggestion of the reef confirmed it in his mind. The crew of that ship had made the same mistake, and they had paid for it with their lives. And he would be damned if he allowed the same thing to happen to Elizabeth.

"It's not a reef." He rushed to Elizabeth and dragged her back a few paces, "Get away from the rail!"

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked.

Will's reply was grim and menacing. "The kracken."

The sound of those two words caused Jack to instantly stop what he was doing and look up, an expression of absolute terror stamped on his features.

"To arms!" Will shouted to the crew as he descended the steps to the main deck. "It'll attack to starboard. I've seen it before. Run out the guns and hold for my signal."

In the ensuing scramble to obey his orders, nobody seemed to remember Jack. He had lost both the dirt and the heart, he might as well count hope lost as well. No one noticed Jack, disappearing from view, not could they have guessed just what he was planning on doing.

* * *

Pintel and Ragetti were below decks, hurriedly getting the guns ready, as per Will's orders. Suddenly Ragetti caught sight of something that made freeze. Poking Pintel, he gestured out the gun port.

Marie, who was also below decks supervising, saw this silent exchange and turned her own attention to the gun port. The port was covered by an enormous tentacle, covered with huge suction cups that were feeling their way over the ship, looking for a target to strike.

Above deck, the view was no less encouraging. A tense, uneasy silence had settled over the crew, as the tentacles began appearing over the starboard side. "Steady men." Called Will, standing on the stair to below decks.

"Will," Elizabeth said nervously, as the tentacles began sliding over the railing, advancing threateningly towards the crew who armed with pikes.

"Steady."

"Will," The tentacles were coming closer and closer, and Elizabeth was beginning to feel more than a little worried.

"Hold." Persisted Will, calm and collected under the pressure of the moment, which irked Marie no end. "Hold."

"Will, what's the matter with you?"

"Yeah, I think we've held fire long enough." Concurred Pintel.

Will still remained firm. The tentacles were coming up faster, they were nearly halfway across the deck, and Elizabeth and Marie finally both turned to Will in exasperation and shouted, "Will!"

Then and only then did Will give the order everyone had been waiting for. "Fire!"

Thunder burst from the canons of the _Black Pearl_, hitting the tentacles of the kracken at point blank range. The kraken's eerie screams of agony pierced the ears of everyone onboard. The tentacles writhed, coiling about themselves around the charred flesh that had been blasted away from the appendages. With the screams of the kracken gradually fading in the air, the tentacles slid back into the water.

The crew broke into cheers when the tentacles vanished underneath the water. But Will knew that the kracken wasn't defeated so easily; he had witnessed first hand the power of the kracken and knew that it was beyond anything that the _Pearl_ may have had to repulse it.

"It'll be back." Said Will to Elizabeth, "We have to get off the ship."

Elizabeth's eyes moved to the longboats, only to see that they had all been destroyed. "There's no boats."

Will looked, and saw a small barrel of gunpowder rolling out from under the wreckage. An idea began to form in Will's mind, and idea, which, even if it didn't win them the battle, might gain them some time.

"Pull the grates!" Will shouted, knowing that they had a limited amount of time, "Get all the gunpowder onto the nets in the cargo hold."

The crew, by this time sensing the jig was up, scrambled to obey. Will grabbed a rifle from a passing pirate, and handed it to Elizabeth. He did not have to say anything, she knew already. She was the only one that he could trust to get it right. "Whatever you do, don't miss." Was all he said.

Elizabeth nodded, "As soon as you're clear."

The grates were pulled back from the deck, and in the cargo hold, the _Pearl_'s crew was hurriedly pushing all the barrels of gun powder which they could find onto the net. Unfortunately, the plan ran into an unexpected snag.

Marie, who had remained below, was watching the pirates roll the barrels onto the nets. The activity suddenly stopped, the pirates seemed to look at each other in confusion. "Well, what's the matter?" Marie called, trying to keep her impatience under control.

The pirates below her hemmed and hawed, reluctant to answer, before one finally admitted. "We are short-stocked on gunpowder, only six barrels."

"What?" said Marie, in astonishment.

Gibbs, who was beside her heard this, and began climbing the stairs to find Will above deck. Will, at the same moment, was heading down to the cargo hold. Gibbs stopped him half-way down the steps. "There's only a half-a-dozen kegs of powder."

"Then load the rum." Will snapped back almost immediately, as if it was the most obvious solution to the problem. He knew that it would be the one thing that the _Pearl _would always have a guaranteed supply of.

But, this suggestion, perfectly logical to Will, was met with nothing short of sacrilegious to the pirates. Gibbs turned a pleading glance at Marie, obviously hoping she would turn down the order.

Marie only hesitated a fraction of a second. Given the choice between dying sober or dying drunk, she was more inclined to the former of the two. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get moving with the rum. Now, or I'll feed you to that beast which we're trying to get away from."

Gibbs knew that it was a useless task to argue. Besides, there could be no way of telling if she were serious about that last kracken bit. However, there still could be no mistaking that agreeing was almost physically painful. "Than, aye, the rum, too." It seemed like one of the hardest orders that he had ever had to give.

Gibbs' agony at burning was to the pirates the very meaning of health and happiness was mirrored by the pathetic wails which sounded from the rest of loading crew, but they had no choice.

Marie wanted to make sure that the order was actually followed. She stayed where she was and supervised the loading, but that was before her eye was caught by something through one of the _Pearl_'s gun ports.

Going up to the opening, she peered through. Her mouth dropped open. No, it couldn't be, it just couldn't be… yes, it was, there could be no denying it. But what was he doing? But she already knew the answer. He was running, running like a coward from his duty as a Captain, a friend, and a husband.

The shock and sadness of this revelation she felt more than the anger at this blatant betrayal. Tears stung her eyes as she whispered, "Oh, Jack, how could you?"


	44. Chapter 44: Endgame Part Two

Chapter 43: Endgame (Part Two)

Jack had stolen the only boat that was still in tact after the first attack from the kracken, and was now rowing away from the _Pearl_ with all the strength he could muster.

He had witnessed the kracken's first attack. He had to give the crew credit for making such a stand and surviving. He knew, however, that Davy Jones wouldn't give up. He didn't keep the kracken as his pet merely because he was fond of oversized squids. The kracken was ruthless, driven by a hunger that was never sated. No matter how many ships or men it digested, it would always want more. And he had no intention of becoming next on the kracken's dinner menu.

And yet, there was something eating him, niggling at the back of his mind, that he couldn't quite get ride of, however much he may have liked too. Jack Sparrow, by his own multiple saying, had never been one to listen to his conscience, but at this very moment, his conscience was shouting to him in a voice so loud, that he couldn't ignore it.

He was doing the wrong thing. Well, of course, he was doing the wrong thing. He was Jack Sparrow, he was a pirate, and he certainly hadn't got to where he was now by doing the right thing. And yet, he had done the right thing, sometimes; he couldn't really say that he had ever regretted doing the right thing. But those had been under rare circumstances, only when he could see the benefit that there might be to himself. What benefit could there be to him now? He was not about to start acting all honorable now when there was so much at stake.

But what was at stake? Should he let others suffer for what he had done? Maybe once, the answer would have been an unreserved yes. But that was before Jack had found out that not all treasure was silver and gold, the real treasures to be valued above all else were friendship and love.

Despite himself, the protests were swiftly beginning to diminish in strength. Images began flashing across his mind, Gibbs, William, Elizabeth, Cotton, Marty (even Pintel and Ragetti to some extent), and than, he saw Marie. Marie, fierce, funny, beautiful Marie, the woman who had taught him to love.

Jack stopped rowing, all the strength drained from his body. He looked at the _Pearl_; the kracken had returned and was in the process of slowly tearing the dark lady apart. The sight seemed to rip at Jack's heart at the same time. The _Pearl_ was a part of him, and been ever since her had traded his soul for the chance to walk on the deck of the ship that had been stolen from him. Even now, when his time was up, Jack didn't regret that bargain, nor did he wish to take back even one second of the time that he had spent on her. Now, she was making a last brave stand, while her Captain was abandoning him like a coward. And somewhere, on that ship, the other lady of his life was standing alongside the _Pearl_, proving in that moment in time to be more of a true friend to her than he was right now. He could just imagine what she would say to him if she could. No doubt she was at least beginning to suspect his disappearance, if she did not know already.

And even if she were not there to chastise him, he could very plainly feel the _Pearl_'s rebuke in the very water around him. She was in pain, but she was not running. Where was he when she needed him most, and why was he running at all when all that he had ever truly wanted was there, where she was?

He looked back at the distant island. There, with land was safety and security, but was it freedom? He looked back once more at _Pearl_. There was his home, his freedom, his life and love.

He took out his compass and opened it. He wasn't sure what he should do, but sometimes, it is only when the mind is confused by so many choices, that is when we must listen to our hearts, for there we will hear what we want most. The compass had never before steered him wrong, malfunctioned and drove him to distraction, yes, but its needle had always pointed true when he trusted it.

He opened the compass. The needle wavered, than swung about and pointed steady. Jack stared at the compass for a moment, and then a small smile spread across his face. Picking up the oars, he started rowing with renewed energy, to the direction the compass had shown him. It was what his heart wanted most, after all. He couldn't go wrong with that.

* * *

On the _Black Pearl, _chaos reigned. The kracken's counter-attack had been swift, destructive and deadly. From the water, numerous tentacles sprang up, discarding any form of stalking this time. The tentacles forced themselves through the gun ports and began tearing apart the _Pearl_ from the inside out. Like multiple giant snakes, the tentacles slithered around and up, snapping off wood beams and deck as easily as if the _Pearl_ had been made of twigs. The canons were thrown about and twisted beyond recognition; any obstacle met with was either destroyed or forced aside.

It was not just the inanimate objects of wood and steel that were targets of the kracken's monstrous appetite. It was also on the hunt for something more substantial, human flesh. The hapless men who were trapped beneath the _Pearl_'s deck could find no place to hide from the ever-searching tentacles. They were dragged, screaming, across the deck and into the sea, where there was only one place for them to end up: the kracken's crushing maw. It was the stuff of nightmares, but none of them would be able to escape reality by waking up.

Marie had somehow managed to avoid the tentacles crushing grasp. Still below decks, she was looking wildly for some way to escape, but one of the tentacles had destroyed the stairwell that led up to the to deck. Still armed with her two swords, she ducked and dodged, stabbed and swiped at any tentacle that came to close, and though he blows were mere pinpricks to a creature of the kracken's size, yet she got some satisfaction in hearing the kracken's painful squealing whenever her sword came into contact with its flesh.

She felt she had been doing this for hours, and she knew she could do it forever. She had to get out of here. Her eyes settled on the stairwell opposite her, on the other side of the deck. Resolving to get there even is she had to lose several limbs and possibly her life, she set off, rolling and dodging the tentacles as she went.

She probably covered ground a whole lot faster than it seemed like. Indeed, it was probably only a few minutes, but in the face of such gruesome death, any time seemed interminable and any distance almost beyond her ability.

In fact, though, the only thing that could be called a delay was one of her own making. While crossing the gallery, she caught sight of Pintel and Ragetti, who through the same stroke of fate or dumb luck, call it what you will, had been spared along with Marie. And like Marie, it could last for long. They were pinned to the wall, to petrified by the scene to even budge. A tentacle wrapped around a man upside down suddenly whipped between them and they looked away in terror as the tentacle crushed the man's spine with a sickening crunch.

Energized by some strange conviction that she had no idea the origin of, Marie ran over to the two of them and began hacking away at the tentacles which surrounded them. Pintel and Ragetti looked at her in open-mouthed shock. Marie had made no secret of the fact that she didn't trust the two of them; why on earth was she risking her life to save them now?

Marie wouldn't have had any good answer had they had a chance to ask her. Maybe that Turner streak of honesty, which could not be suppressed entirely by the name of the deceitfulness of Sparrow, could not bear to see two men as Pintel and Ragetti die by such awful means. Maybe she wanted to try and save at least someone from the kracken's ravenous appetite if she could. Or maybe, Pintel and Ragetti amused her and she didn't want to lose on future entertainment.

Be it any of those reasons, a combination of them or for reasons that even Marie didn't know, when the first opportunity came, she shouted to Pintel and Ragetti: "Get moving, you two. Now!" Neither of them were the mood to raise objection.

Pintel and Ragetti, followed by Marie, somehow managed to negotiate the constantly changing obstacle course of dangerous tentacles and make it to the steps, which they ran up not a moment too soon, for almost the instant that Marie had climbed the last stair, a tentacle swiped up through the gallery and shattered the stairs.

If Marie had hoped tot find that was her last close call, she was disappointed. Above deck, things were worse. The tentacles were larger, more capable of swift destruction, which they were dealing out in large amounts, if the extensive damage which she was witnessing around her was any indication. The crew had lost all sense of discipline. They were running in every conceivable direction, trying desperately to escape the ravenous tentacles, which were yet still wrapping themselves around the hapless crewmembers, dragging them to a horrific death. Marie had never seen anything resembling this scene of carnage, terror and absolute chaos. She was truly experiencing one of the deepest circles of Hades.

And then, she looked up, and the final horror ws revealed to her. There was Will, dangling above the deck, hanging onto the net that had been filled with the rum barrels. And down below him was Elizabeth, holding a rifle, looking up at Will with an expression of fear and expectation on her face. Marie had already guessed what Will's plan entailed, but she had never thought that he would be placing himself directly in the line of fire by hanging onto the net itself. He was shouting at the beast, as if by taunting it, he could lure the kracken into the trap.

Whether the kracken actually heard what he was saying or if it just happened to tangle the new up in it's tentacles, Marie was never able to determine for sure, but when the kracken whipped the net around it's tentacles, Will's grasp slipped and he became tangled in the net. Marie stared in horror; he was trapped.

But even at the cost of his own life, Will could only think of what needed to be done. Elizabeth would get no better chance than this, so even as he saw desperately at the rope which was pinioning his leg against one of the barrels, he cried down to Elizabeth, "Shoot! Elizabeth, shoot!"

Down below, Elizabeth, unmindful of the chaos around her, including Pintel and Ragetti were dashing past her, trying to seek refuge in the decimated captain's cabin. All her concentration was focused on the swinging net. But as she raised the rifle to fire, she paused for half-a-second, hoping against hope that Will would be able to fall clear in time.

And in that half second of time, Marie dashed madly from across the ship. Pushing the rifle aside so it was no longer aiming at Will, she cried, "Elizabeth, not yet!"

Almost at the same time, Elizabeth felt something slimy and strong curling around one of her legs. She screamed as the kracken pulled her feet out from under her, and she began to be pulled backwards. Marie couldn't help but think that she had been responsible. She glanced up at Will, who was still trying to work himself loose, hadn't seen what had just happened. She looked back at Elizabeth. Both Pintel and Ragetti were chopping at the wriggling tentacle wrapped around Elizabeth's leg. Marie temporarily allowed herself to be thankful that she had rescued them after all.

Elizabeth managed to shout out, "Marie, you've got to finish it!"

Before she could think of what she was doing, Marie dashed to the rifle which Elizabeth had dropped. But before she could get it, another crew member snatched it, and took aim at the waving tentacles. The fool act of bravery was his last. One of the tentacles came up, whipped around his body and pulled him into the air. The gun landed on the top deck of the _Pearl_. Marie swore violently and headed for the steps. A violent shudder rocked the _Pearl_. Marie fell to her knees, crawling up the stairs as quickly as she could.

She got to the top, put her hand on the rifle and then a booted foot came out of nowhere, stepping down on the rifle, and preventing Marie from moving it. Enraged, Marie grabbed at the foot, wondering momentarily if she could use her sword to cut the offending limb off at the knee, but just when she was about to give it a try, she suddenly noticed that the boot looked very familiar. In fact, it almost resembled… She looked up, and her heart nearly jumped out of her chest, because that boot belonged to none other than Jack Sparrow. He had come back.

He had been standing above, looking out over the destruction which was being wrought by the kracken. He glanced down and saw Marie. He knew what had to be done. "Keep down, luv." He said, as he reached for the rifle, "There will be a lot of debris to avoid when those barrels blow."

Jack raised the rifle to his shoulder and took careful aim. At the same moment, Will at last managed to cut himself free, and he fell downward to the deck. Then and only then did Jack know it was time. He only had one shoot, and as he had once told Will and Marie, when you only had one shot, it was best to wait for the opportune moment, and the opportune moment was now.

One barrel of rum was enough to set off a chain reaction of thunderous, fiery explosions. The kracken whose tentacles were wrapped around the net roared in agony as it's flesh was seared and burnt away, and flaming projectiles of wood buried themselves in it's flesh the tentacles wrapped around the Pearl's hull and waving in the air, thrashed violently for several seconds, than their movements seemed to slow, slower and slower, until at last with an eerie, bone-chilling moan, the tentacles retreated back into the water.

* * *

Whew, that might have been a little exhausting. But, still I hope that you like what I did with it. Of course, from here there can be no going back. We are speeding towards the end of Dead Man's Chest and we all know how this one ends. There is a lot of dark stuff coming up in the next few chapters, so be prepared, and maybe have some anti-depressants ready. Read and review for this chapter, in the meantime.

Next chapter: A choice will lead to betrayal, sacrifice will lead to heartbreak, and the death of a good man is the passing of an era.


	45. Chapter 45: Abandon Ship

Okay, I am going to want everyone right here and now: be prepared with tissues when you read this chapter, and the rest of the story, because after this installment, there are only two more updates left. They are all very sad. Let's face it, DMC wouldn't have been much of a sequel if they hadn't left us hanging. So, be warned of that. Enjoy this chapter, if you can, we all know what's coming.

Chapter 43: Abandon Ship

A throbbing, unearthly silence settled over the surviving members of the _Pearl_'s crew, of which the number was now extremely limited. The only thing to break to break the silence was the sound of still burning fires; the smell of cinderized human and kracken flesh was mingling with the smoke which hung think in the air. The damage to the _Pearl_ was extensive. The masts had broken in two, whole pieces of the deck had been torn off and thrown about, and the black sails had been shredded into tatters or torn off the masts completely. And if the _Pearl_was but an empty shell of her former glory, than the loss of human life was equally gut-wrenching; the deck was scattered with slimy pieces of kracken tentacles and the dead bodies of those who hadn't been dragged into the water and eaten, many of them without either arms or legs or heads. There were even some spare limbs that the kracken had somehow managed to lose along the way.

Jack helped Marie to her feet. The two of them looked into each other's eyes. Marie could already tell without words what Jack had attempted to do. Jack, though he couldn't tell exactly what Marie was going to do to him, he knew that she was disappointed, but also relieved.

She, at last, said, "I don't know whether to slap your or kiss you."

"Marie, I-I know that my actions may have seemed questionable, but I can explain everything if you'll just…"

But Marie wasn't interested in hearing any sort of explanation. She threw her arms around Jack and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Jack wasn't expecting this particular reaction, but as it was a more welcome one than some of the alternatives, he took it upon himself to enjoy it while he could.

"I thought you were going to kill me." He said, when they had drawn apart.

"I may think about it later. Right now, I'm just glad that you came back." Said Marie, as she hugged Jack.

Meanwhile, down below them, the few surviving members of the _Pearl_'s crew were in the process of crawling out of the wreckage which lay on the deck. Marty went over to Gibbs, who was standing by the rail looking out at the sea, which was now eerily calm and still.

"Did we kill it?" Marty asked Gibbs in uncertainty.

"No," said Gibbs, in a hushed frightened whisper, "We just made it angry. They had a limited amount of time. Seeing Jack coming down the stairs with Marie in tow, he called, "We're not out of this, yet? Cap'n, orders?"

Jack had already made his choice, as difficult as it was, he knew that they had only one choice. "Abandon ship. Into the longboat."

Marie was shocked, Jack couldn't have meant that. He couldn't seriously be thinking of abandoning his ship, not when he had paid such a dear price.

Gibbs was equally horrified by this suggestion. "Jack, the _Pearl_?"

Jack paused, his heart heavy. "She's only a ship, mate."

"He's right, we have to head for land." Said Elizabeth, who was standing by the rail.

"It's a lot of open water." Said Pintel nervously.

"It's a lot o' water." Echoed Ragetti, who was equally nervous by the idea of the kracken's return.

"We need to take a chance," said Will, who knew that they had no other choice. "We can escape as it takes down the _Pearl_."

Gibbs nodded grimly, seeing the necessity, though he clearly didn't like it. "Abandon ship, abandon ship or abandon hope."

With those words, the meager survivors began to hurriedly make their preparations to abandon the _Black Pearl_. Marie lingered by Jack a few seconds. She could see the muted pain which this choice was causing him, for in losing the _Pearl_, he would be losing part of his soul.

"Jack, are you sure? Is there nothing we can do?"

Jack turned a look to at her, an indescribable mixture of sadness and pain in his eyes. She had never seen him more somber. "Marie, what a man can do, what a man can't do."

Marie, after a moment, nodded resignedly. "All right." She put a hand on his shoulder, understanding in her eyes, before leaving him to say his own goodbyes to the _Pearl_.

But there was something that Jack was considering that not Marie, nor Will, nor any of the others would have guessed was going through his mind. He didn't really believe that he was thinking it either. Hadn't he already sacrificed enough? Why did it have to come to this? He suspected that leaving the _Pearl _to the kracken would not be enough; more would be required, nothing short of a blood sacrifice. That's the way that it always worked.

Jack knew that there was only one sure way to save the people that he cared for, especially Marie. But he was well aware that if he did this, than he would break her heart. But he had made a promise to protect her, no matter what the cost. But would he be able to pay that price? He had a limited amount of time in which to make the choice. He found himself wondering how those people in stories handled the weight of being heroes. At this moment, he felt very much like he was being brushed by the feeling.

But, as it would turn out, someone else would make the choice for him. Behind him, he heard Elizabeth's voice, "Thank you, Jack."

Jack turned around to see her standing a few feet from him. "We're not free yet, luv." He said softly, sadly.

Than he caught sight of the look in Elizabeth's eyes. He wasn't able to describe it, but he knew very well what it meant, even if Elizabeth may not have been aware of how much her eyes betrayed her purpose. Apparently, Jack hadn't been the only one to question matters of self-preservation. However, unlike Jack she had made her choice. "You came back; I always knew you were good man."

Jack stood still, never taking his eyes off of Elizabeth. He knew without being told; the choice was no longer his own to make. Elizabeth had made it for him already.

Elizabeth stepped forward, so that their faces were only inches apart, and she pressed her lips to his, kissing him passionately.

At that very moment, Will was loading weapons and supplies into the waiting longboat. He had had just finished handing off a rifle to Ragetti, and turned back to the _Pearl_'s deck, and froze. There, not ten feet away, he saw Elizabeth (Elizabeth, his fiancée and the woman he loved), passionately kissing Jack Sparrow. Will was shocked, stunned, and speechless. How had this happened? What was going on? Will couldn't wrap his mind around what he was seeing. He was too shocked to even consider that his heart was breaking.

Gibbs' sudden appearance in Will's line of sight and his gruff voice brought Will back into something resembling reality. "There's not time to lose." Will still didn't move, causing Gibbs to shout down at the young man as he climbed down to the boat, "Come on, Will, step too."

Will reluctantly climbed the rest of the way into the longboat, though he was hardly aware of his movements. His mind was awhirl, with questions he had never thought to ask, and doubts both old and new. Could Elizabeth really have betrayed him like this, so quickly, and with Jack no less, his twin sister's husband? He had always known about Elizabeth's romantic fantasies about pirates, he knew that she really liked Jack, but he had always thought her to be sensible enough to know the difference between fantasy and reality. Had she given into temptation during her time on the _Pearl_? And how far had Jack pushed that temptation? Will had been just getting used to the idea of being married to Jack, now he felt all of his confidence beginning to shake. What if Jack hadn't really changed at all?

Marie, who was in the longboat, saw at once that her brother was deeply troubled about something. In fact, she couldn't remember him ever looking like this. "Will, are you all right?"

Will looked at Marie. She didn't know, she didn't even suspect. He couldn't reveal what he had seen, not now. He still wasn't sure how he would have been able to put it into words anyway. "Nothing." He said, in a tight voice before looking away, clearly not going to say anything else.

Marie, though puzzled by this unusual behavior on Will's part, decided to let it go. They all had a right to be behaving a little unusual at the moment, anyway.

Up on the _Pearl_'s deck, unaware that they been seen, Elizabeth continued kissing Jack, backing him up against the mast. She was quite aware of the fact that Jack wasn't responding in the slightest. If she were to think of a word to fit his reaction, it would have been meek and tame. This was not at all like how he acted with Marie. She certainly wasn't enjoying it. In fact, she felt rather repulsed. Had it not been for that there was another driving purpose behind this besides satisfying any carnal curiosity, she would broken it off right there, and tried very hard to forget the thoroughly disappointing experience of kissing Jack Sparrow.

Jack took the kiss quietly, with no objection. He wondered if she really didn't think that he knew what she was doing with him. He had known it almost from the start, and when he felt his back against the mast, it only confirmed what he had already suspected. It wouldn't be long now; he waited, counting down the seconds when he felt her hands move down his arm.

SNAP-CLICK!

The distinct sound of the manacle clasping around Jacks wrist was the final link in the chain. Elizabeth stopped kissing him, faced him with a look of dark conviction. Jack knew without looking down that he had been chained to the mast, and he wouldn't be able to escape. And as soon as he realized this, Jack smiled.

Elizabeth began speaking, her voice sounding rushed and tight. "It's after you, not the ship, this is the only way, don't you see? I'm not sorry." Elizabeth was desperately trying to justify her own actions. She deliberately leaving Jack to die, she knew that there wasn't any way to ensure their survival. But even she had not expected to feel this suffocating feeling of guilt. What made it worse in a way was that Jack didn't start accusing her of anything. Why was he silent? Why was he still smiling at her in that same infuriatingly calm manner?

Jack was actually smiling for several reasons. He smiled because Elizabeth had become like him after all, just as he had always thought that she would. He smiled because he knew that now any pain Marie would have to endure because of this would not be his fault. He smiled because even if Elizabeth wasn't sorry, she was guilty. He could see it in her face that this was not an easy choice to make, but she was doing it anyway. He admired a person who was willing to do whatever was necessary. So, the only thing that Jack needed to say to sum up all of this was one, simple word. "Pirate." He murmured softly, and smiled once more. It might have been an insult to some, but it was the highest compliment that Jack could give.

He didn't know if Elizabeth got the message, but she didn't give him time to consider her carefully. She stared at him painfully for a few seconds longer, then turned and walked away, without once looking back, leaving Jack to his fate.

* * *

As Elizabeth clambered into the boat, Marie looked up, expecting to see Jack following right behind her. When he didn't appear, she turned to Elizabeth, intending to ask where he was, but Will beat her to it.

"Where's Jack?' he asked, his voice as heavy as stone, making no attempt to hide the edge in his voice. Shock had passed, to be replaced by a wordless anger against both Jack and Elizabeth.

Elizabeth stared at Will, the raw guilt in her soul causing her normally strong voice to become choked with unshed tears. She heard the anger in Will's voice and wondered if, perhaps, he had seen what she had done. If he had, then there wasn't any need to tell him. And she could not blame him if he was never able to forgive her. She did not think that she could forgive herself. She knew, though, she could not face them with the truth here. "He elected to stay behind to give us a chance."

A stunned silence greeted this unexpected announcement. None more than Marie, who gaped at Elizabeth in dumbfounded horror. "What?"

"Marie-" said Will, but Marie didn't hear him.

"He what? He can't, he'll die." Marie's voice was rising in panic and horror. She stood up and was about to climb back up to the _Pearl_'s deck, but Will grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back down."

"Marie, no. it's too late."

"Jack, no! Jack! Jack!"

"Marie, enough."

"Let go of me! Jack! Jack! Jack!"

Marie was approaching near hysteria and Will had no choice but to exert force to pull Marie back into the boat and keep her there.

During this whole thing, the others had watched Marie, then looked back at the _Pearl_, clearly reluctant to have to leave their captain behind. But they couldn't delay. "Go!" the word was ripped from Elizabeth's lips. It pained her no less than seeing a dear friend go through such agony. Nonetheless, the command was reluctantly obeyed. Ragetti let go of the rope which had been holding them to the _Pearl_, and he and Pintel started rowing away from the _Pearl_.

By this time, Marie had lost all strength to resist. She could only lie cradled in Will's arms, sobbing into his chest. No words could describe the sudden, unspeakable grief which had robbed her of all speech and thought.

Meanwhile, even as the longboat was beginning to sail away, Jack was desperately trying to free himself from the mast. He had already decided that h had no intention of going down tied to his own ship like a pathetic sacrificial victim. The sound of Marie's heartbroken screams had only fueled his desire to get free, but he knew that any escape from _Pearl_ now was out of the question.

He pulled and jerked and twisted, muttering numerous curses and epithets at the stubborn metal. But then, he suddenly felt the deck sloping beneath his feet. It would not be long now. He had to get out of this, quick.

His keen eyes suddenly lighted upon just the thing which he needed: a lantern that just might be within sword reach, and if his eyes deceived him, it just might have some oil left in it. Perfect, now all he had to do was get it.

He drew his sword and tried to hook the blade into the iron ring at the top of the lantern. It was no easy task, since the lantern was lying at an odd angle, but Jack, having set his mind on escape was no quitter. He managed to get his sword in just the right position to hook the ring. Than lifting the lantern up and over his wrist, he shattered the lantern against the mast. The oil dripped down from the lantern's casing and onto his manacled hand.

That done, it was only a matter of time before Jack was able to wiggle his hand out of the manacle. However, the triumph of freedom was short-lived, because he suddenly noticed that he was no longer alone. He had been so consumed with getting loose, that he hadn't noticed that the kracken had returned.

Jack turned around very slowly. And there he saw the great maw of the kracken waiting for him. As if sensing Jack's presence, the mouth suddenly opened wide, revealing row upon row of sharp, flesh-eating teeth. The kracken let loose a mighty roar, a slimy, foul-smelling gooey gack shooting out of its mouth ad covering Jack from head to toe.

After several seconds, once the roar and spit had stopped flying, Jack gave himself a shake and opened his eyes. He wiped some of the slime from his face, looked at it, then looked at the kracken. "Not so bad." He commented. Gibbs had always said that the kracken reeked of a thousand dead bodies; that certainly wasn't the case as far as Jack could see. The odor might be more accurately described as hundreds of reeking dead bodies, but certainly not close to a thousand.

The tentacles were beginning to swirl thick and fast around the _Pearl_'s body, preparing to drag her down to the depths from where she had first come. But Jack didn't seem to notice. He did notice his hat lying at his feet, no doubt discharged along with the previous spurt of gack and goo.

"Oh," said Jack, delighted with this unexpected surprise, picked up the hat and whipped off some of the slime, before placing it on his head at a jaunty angle. After all, if he was going to meet his maker (or the devil, either one, really), it would certainly pay to looks his best.

But, whatever or whoever he might encounter on this next adventure, Jack was not afraid. On the contrary, he felt a sort of strange giddiness. So this was what it felt like to be a hero, to do something courageous, to die a good man. And that was what he was, and that if he had to die, it would be like this.

"Marie," he said, softly, "You were right." It was just too bad that he would only be able to do this once.

But he would do it, and he wouldn't look back. He would do it, for Marie, for William, for Elizabeth, for them all.

He felt the _Pearl_ shudder and rise beneath him, as if she had sensed his thoughts, and wanted to show him that they were, even to the last, united. She was prepared to go down bravely as well, just like her captain.

Jack grinned when he felt this. 'That's right, girl, I wasn't about to leave you on your own to face this. Let's give 'em an endin' that they'll never forget.'

And with these thoughts parading across Jack's mind, Jack said to the kracken, "'ello, beastie."

With that, he drew his sword and charged into the kracken's waiting mouth. And even as the jaws closed around him, even as he was looking death in the face, Captain Jack Sparrow never once looked back.

* * *

The end came all too quickly. By the time the longboat was relatively out of danger, there was not anyone in the group who had not looked back, and who now couldn't look away as the tentacles dragged the _Black_ _Pearl_ under with its gruesome efficiency.

Even Marie, who was still being comforted by her brother's embrace, couldn't look away, however much she wanted too.

It wasn't fair, it was almost criminal. Jack couldn't leave like this. There was too much that had not been said between the two of them, too many wounds that still needed time's healing hand. But what hurt the most was that the future itself had been stolen from them. A year ago, Jack had come into her life and had changed her completely. Now he was gone, in the worst possible way. He had told her only a short time ago that they would whether this storm, as they had always done before and they had yet a long future together. But that future had come all too soon for her liking.

Seeing the _Pearl_'s destruction was almost as wrenching. The _Black Pearl_ was more than ship; it was her home, the truest and best home that she had ever known. She would never feel her hull dancing beneath her feet, either in the gentleness of a calm sea or the fast, flawless fluidity of a high gale on the sea, when the storm winds pushed the waves almost as high as mountains. Most other ships would have bee smashed and destroyed, but the _Black Pearl_ always survived. She had been a true Lady, a true pirate vessel, second only to her in Jack's affections and the same in hers. Now, all her dreams and hopes for her future with Jack on the _Pearl_ disappeared when the majestic black ship at last sank under the waves of the ocean.

Tears stung her eyes anew and she made no attempt to stop them. "Goodbye, Jack." She whispered softy.

Everyone else who was in the longboat that say knew that as they watched the _Black Pearl_ sinking with her captain upon her knew that they were witnessing the passing of a legend. They all felt this loss deeply, each in their own separate way. But none so strongly as Marie; on that day, in that dark hour, Marie almost wished that she, too, had died.

* * *

Aboard the _Flying Dutchman_, Davy Jones lowered the spyglass from his eye, having witnessed the _Black Pearl_ at last vanish beneath the waves. "Jack Sparrow," he said with an air of morbid finality, "our debt is settled."

The crew was gathered around him, all having seen the final passing of the _Pearl_. "Captain goes down with the ship." One commented.

"Turns out not even Jack Sparrow can best the devil." Another said.

When Davy Jones heard this, his eyes hardened. He turned around to face his crew. "Open The Chest." The crewmen all exchanged puzzled glances, as if they couldn't understand what prompted the Captain to make such an expected order.

Davy Jones was in mood for curiosity. A dreadful thought had entered his mind, and he couldn't rest easy until he was certain. "Open The Chest. I need to see it!"

No one argued with Jones when he used such a tone (not that anyone would have argued with him under the best of circumstances). The Chest was hastily brought forward and unlocked. Davy Jones pushed his way through the crew to The Chest. He opened the lid and recoiled. The heart was gone. Jones' entire ghastly face became even more terrifying as a look of horrible rage came over it. His nest words were a soft growl, but so great was the anger of the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, it had transformed itself into the howl of a wounded animal by the ending words. "Damn you, Jack SPARROW!!!"

At the very last, that man had gotten the better of him. Davy Jones had lost.

* * *

Well, even if you are feeling depressed, try and leave a review. Just so everyone knows, I am going to be finishing this story within the next two days, so you can expect a new update tomorrow. I am very pleased at how much positive feedback I have gotten from this story, and I look forward to starting At Worlds' End.

Next chapter: James returns to Port Royal, only to be greeted with a terrible tragedy, but is it truth or merely another sceme of Beckett's to gain revenge? Also, Emma is onboard the _Sea Queen_, where she learns not only what part she is meant to play in the upcoming drama, she also possesses a gift that will earn her the friendship of the people who live beneath the sea.


	46. Chapter 46: Just Rewards

The last three chapters set the groundwork for all of the character arcs in AWE. These next few chapters will answer some questions, but they will also reveal new mysteries that the characters will have to overcome. Hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 44: Just Rewards

Lord Cutler Beckett sat in his office at Port Royal, waiting. He had been waiting several days for any news about any of the numerous ventures that he had launched in the Caribbean, including one that he had not intended. He had sent out ships to canvas the Caribbean, but so far, he had heard nothing, and it was putting him in a foul mood.

Now, Mercer came into the room. He did not have to say what he had come for. "The last of our ships has returned."

Beckett looked up. He didn't care about that. There was only one thing that he was interested in. "Is there any news on The Chest?"

"None, but one of the ships did pick up a man adrift at sea." He held up a familiar leather case. "He had these." He dropped the Letters of Marque onto the desk before Beckett, who sat forward, a keener look of interest growing on his face. He took the papers in his hand and looked them over carefully, especially at the signature which made them completely legitimate.

"I took the liberty of filling in my name." James Norrington stated from the doorway, where he was being held by Commander Gillette.

Beckett set the papers back on the desk and gestured for Norrington to come forward. Gillette reluctantly let his charge go. James cast him a searing glare before walking up to Beckett's desk. Outwardly, he was all nonchalant confidence, but inside, he felt like Orpheus approaching the throne of Hades to ask for his wife back. Considering that particular myth had ended, it wasn't exactly a comforting image.

Beckett confessed himself impressed. He had not been entirely sure that Norrington would have followed through on his part of the deal, and even to bring along the Letters of Marque, truly a sign of a thinking and planning man. However, the Letters may have had all the outward signs of legitimacy, but it was up to him to say whether or not Norrington deserved them. He was not about to hand them over for nothing.

"If you intend to claim these, you must have something to trade. Do you have the compass?"

James had been prepared for this question. "Better," he replied with the barest hint of satisfaction. He held up a leather bag which he had been carrying in his hand and dropped it on the desk in front of Beckett. Beckett watched as the bag undulated and moved, and from within came the sound of a steady heartbeat. "The heart of Davy Jones."

Beckett looked at the heart, than back at Norrington, and slowly, a smile of intense triumph slithered across his face. At last, right here in front of him was the key to his life's work, the answer to his every ambition, the ultimate power of the seas. If Beckett had been offered the world's richest diamond, he would not have even considered giving up the small thing which was in front of him. This little thing was far more valuable than treasure. This very well could buy him power which none would be able to contest.

"My compliments, Mr. Norrington." He said, at last, "You have done more than was ever expected of you. There might be more reward called for than a simple pardon on your part in this offer."

"Save the rewards. My only interest is in Emma. I have followed through on my part of the bargain. It is time for you to do the same." He leaned forward and asked, "Where is she?"

A very unexpected and strange thing happened. The smile that had been on Beckett's face suddenly faltered. His eyes grew somber, almost sad and when he spoke, his voice and manner were filled with almost palpable sympathy. "I'm so sorry."

"What? What is it?" asked James, a feeling of horror beginning to grow in the pit of his stomach.

"I hardly know how to break this news to you. It has grieved me to hear it and I can only think what the loss will mean to you."

"What's happened? Is it Emma? If you have done anything to her-"

Beckett looked appalled at the very idea. "I would never do anything to hurt your wife. She held a very high place in m regard, almost the equal of your affections for her."

James bit back the harsh reply that no one, least of all Beckett, would have been able to understand the depths of the love which he felt for Emma and asked instead in a tight voice, "Where is she?"

Beckett seemed to take a few moments to respond and when he spoke, his voice, normally hard and clipped, was quivering with emotion. "Just a week ago, your wife boarded a ship for England. I have not yet been able to determine why or how, but I think that her father might have had something to do with it. I could have warned him. The seas are far too unstable for such a venture. But, it was too late to do anything when I found out about it. A few days ago, though, one of the Company's patrol ships brought news of a shipwreck that they had encountered ten leagues from Port Royal. They brought with them a single survivor, the Captain of the vessel that was supposed to bring Emma to England."

James stepped back, feeling as if someone were about to stick a knife in him, and there was nothing that he could do to stop it from happening. "What did he say?" He just managed to choke out.

Beckett's eyes were veils of sympathy, though it might be thought, if one were to look at them closely, the sympathy was that of a spider, who was about to ensnare another new victim in its web. Beckett had a talent for making even the worst situation turn to his advantage. If he could not have Emma, he would have the next best thing for his revenge, he would merely use the husband. "The ship was attacked by pirates. The Captain informed me that he was the only survivor. I'm so sorry, sir, but your wife, she is dead."

* * *

Of course, Emma's not really dead. That would be mean even for me. But, what has she been up too during all this time? Hit the little next button to find out.


	47. Chapter 47: Song of the Sea

Chapter 45: Song of the Sea

Far out upon the trackless seas, underneath a velvet sky that was spattered by pin-pricks of diamond light, a ship was making it's way through the night dark waters, on a course that was yet unknown. On first sight, this ship might not have seemed very special. It was no more than half the size of a regular pirate galleon, or East India Trading Company vessel. But, it was the subtleties that made this ship very unique. Her every line was smooth and graceful, her bow nimble and strong. She did not cut through the waters like a knife, but rather skipped and danced across the waves, moving swiftly even when there was no wind to fill it's strange aquamarine sails or when the water of the seas itself was as smooth as glass. If one took the time to watch and observe closely, than one would have seen that this one ship held many secrets.

Emma had yet to discover those secrets. She was, by her own admission, not born to the sea. But she observed enough to know that the _Sea Queen_ was no ordinary ship. A good many of the crew were women, who seemed to hail from as far away as Africa or India, and that some of them did not seem to be born and bred pirates, but rather operating for some greater good that Emma was unable to ascertain just yet. There was also something in the very materials which made up the _Queen_. Emma had once witnessed the work of the supernatural; she knew what it felt like. But this was a different kind of supernatural; it was benevolent, a force that seemed to work more for healing than for destruction. She couldn't describe it beyond that, but almost since she had stepped aboard the _Sea Queen_, she knew that she had made the right choice.

She was leaning on the rail, looking out at the waters, and thinking about these things when she was joined by Ana Maria. Emma acknowledged her presence with a smile and a nod, a gesture that was returned by Ana Maria. Over the past few days, Ana Maria had come to find that there was a great deal more to Emma than met the eye. She had had her doubts that Emma, a Governor's daughter and the wife of a Commodore, one who had lived her whole life in luxury, could have even been close to the person that they had been looking for. But, now seeing her over the past few days, she was beginning to change her mind.

"How have you been doing?"

"Better than I thought I would be doing. I did not expect to become accustomed to life aboard ship so quickly."

"You haven't become a burden, Emma, if that is what you fear. You are learning to pull your own weight. You're learning how to furl the sails and climb the ratlines without the risk of falling to your death, so that is an advantage which you won't soon forget. To be quite honest, you are exceeding even my expectations."

"I have never liked being idle, nor do I believe in repaying good deeds with nothing. You did help me to escape from Port Royal; I feel that I must do something to pay you back."

"You don't owe me anything, but I am glad to hear that you're not regretting your choice."

"If I had stayed in Port Royal, only pain would have followed me." said Emma, "Of that I have become sure. But I have been wondering, why did you want to save me? I have tried to find the answer, but I am at something of a dead end."

"You have a lot more questions, don't you?" said Ana Maria, "So did I when I first joined the crew. And some of the answers I am still not sure about."

"Well, what can you tell me? Can you tell me why the crew keeps looking at me as if they are waiting for something to happen? Don't bother to deny it, Ana Maria, I have seen it in you too. You didn't just rescue me because you happened to be in the neighborhood. I'm beginning wonder if you know something about my future that I don't, and honestly, it's beginning to irritate me. Ana Maria, what's going on? Why am I here?"

Ana Maria seemed to pause before answering, as if she were unsure of how to phrase her words. "Emma, I'm not sure if I can explain it myself, and I daresay that you won't believe it, but here is the truth as far as I can understand: the reason that I came for you was because someone told me to do so."

"Someone told you?" repeated Emma in confusion.

"Yes, a person who has abilities that I can't fully explain or understand. You might call her magic. She told me that I was supposed to come to Port Royal and tell you to come with me. It was she was told me about the danger that was awaiting you."

"And for what purpose exactly?"

"It was this same woman, Tia Dalma who told me that you had a gift, a gift which not many people have or are unaware of in their lives. And that's what we are waiting for, Emma; we all want to see if you have that gift, because of you do, it will bring this crew more hope than we have had in a long time."

Had Emma been cognizant of all that Ana Maria was saying, she might have had even more question, but while Ana Maria had been speaking, Emma had begun to notice something very strange. She thought that she began to hear the strains of a beautiful song riding upon the night air, seeming to come from the very sea itself. Emma found herself listening keenly to the song, which seemed to be growing closer. It spoke to her in a way that she could not explain.

It was one of the most beautiful sounds that she had ever experienced. The highest, purest notes of a woman's voice mingled effortlessly with the deepest range of that a man could sing, and every type of voice in between. The voices mingled and rippled into each other, counterpoint flowed into harmony and back again, sometimes sounding together. The voices and music were otherworldly, something beyond the human ability to create. The song had words which Emma could not understand at this point, but she felt that soon she would be able to. The strangest thing was that Emma felt that she had heard this song once before in her life.

Ana Maria had been staring at Emma for several seconds, a look that seemed to resemble hope coming into her eyes. "Do you hear it?"

Emma was so tuned into that song that she didn't answer, she merely nodded. "It sounds so familiar." She murmured to herself, seeming to have forgotten Ana Maria's presence, "Like a memory that I used to have when I was a child."

"Tell me about that memory, Emma."

Emma closed her eyes for a moment, as if trying to remember memories which she had not thought of for many years. "When I was a child, our family once spent a few summers on the coast. I would sometimes come down to the shore, in the hours before dawn and watch the sun rise during the sea. It was during those times when I thought that I heard a distant song coming to me from across the waves. It was there at sunset as well. I never told anyone what I heard, it was a beautiful secret which I wanted to keep all for myself. There were few things that I was selfish about, but that song was beautiful, that I didn't want to risk losing by telling others about it. I can't believe that I still remember, it was so long ago."

"Do you remember hearing it at any other time?"

Emma thought a moment longer and said, "Yes, yes when we rescued Will and Marie from that terrible shipwreck on our first crossing. I thought that I heard that song, more distant and sad than I remembered it to be, but I was older at the time and I don't think that I lent it much credence."

"But you hear it?"

"Yes, but I don't remember hearing it this clearly, so lovely." She turned to look at Ana Maria, "Ana Maria, what is going on?"

"You talk of memories that you had as a child, memories that could very easily have been dismissed by others as mere fantasies, but yet, you have remembered." In Ana Maria's mind, everything was confirmed. She had seen this before with the former Captain of the _Sea Queen_. The prophecy of voodoo priestess had been true. "You were meant to remember. And sometimes, those fantasies are based on reality."

Emma still didn't know what was happening, but Ana Maria pointed to the sea and when she did so, Emma gaped. In the sea, swimming beneath the waves alongside the _Sea Queen_'s bow, she saw people swimming in the water. But, on closer inspection, she realized that they were not really people. They were like humans from the waist up, both men and women, but instead of legs, they were propelled gracefully though the water by fish tales, which ranged in every color of the spectrum, from pure white to ebony black. In the moonlight, those tails flashed and shone like jewels. The song was coming unmistakably from the creatures that were swimming beneath the ship.

Emma could hardly find words to speak. She had heard about these creatures, dreamed about their existence as a young child. Elizabeth had always loved to hear the rollicking adventures of pirates, but it was the stories of the people who had lived under the waves that had captured her imagination. And now they were here, actually real. "Are those really…" She left the question unfinished, still hardly able to believe what she was seeing.

"Yes, they are. The Merfolk are normally held to be nothing more than superstition and myth, but as you can see they are quite real."

"What are they doing here?"

"Why not ask them yourself?"

"Me? How could I-"

There was suddenly a light splash from down below. Emma looked down, only to see three of the mysterious Merfolk give their tails a graceful flick. The next moment they had jumped out of the water and were standing on the _Sea Queen_'s deck, not more than five feet in front of where the two women were standing. Emma found herself gaping at the sight of them, for the Merfolk were more beautiful in countenance than she could ever have dreamed. They were human enough, fish tails apart, though their clothing seemed to have been made from come type of fabric that was finer than silk and yet was probably as strong as steel, such a thing that was not found in the world above. This, along with their fish tails gave them a glowing, otherworldly appearance.

One of them, a Merman, with a tail the color of burnished copper, and coal black eyes, came gliding towards Emma, his eyes focused entirely on Emma, as if Ana Maria did not exist. Emma, though rooted to the spot in slack-jawed awe, was not frightened of them, for his eyes were gentle, long-lived and wise. Indeed, it seemed that the wisdom of untold ages was reflected in his eyes.

He stared at her penetratingly for a long moment, as if searching her soul. And then, Emma as if she wouldn't have enough surprises heaped upon her that night, heard the Merman's voice (at least, she thought it was his voice), in her mind, "Greetings, daughter of Eve."

Emma's mouth dropped open. That voice sounded like music, not spoken words. "You can understand them, can't you?" said Ana Maria.

"Yes, I can. Why? Can't you?"

"Not the way you can. Say something to them."

"What on earth should I say to them?" said Emma, who suddenly felt quite plain and awkward.

"Anything you want." Was Ana Maria's reply.

At that same moment, the same voice sang in Emma's mind once more. "What are you called, daughter of Eve?"

Emma after a moment, answered, "My name is Emma." She was not able to say how it was that the words were spoken. But if one outside this conversation had heard Emma's voice when she spoke these words, it would only have sounded to them as the echo of the song of the sea that could still be heard clearly in the air all around them. But the words that were perfectly clear to her and in the Merfolk's ears were not clear to Ana Maria, or would have been clear to the ears of any human who did not know by instinct the unique language of the Merfolk.

Ana Maria smiled, clearly relived, for this was the final sign that she had been looking for. One part was complete; the other had yet to be found. But, perhaps, there was yet reason to hope. "Emma, it's time that you got the answers that you have been seeking."

* * *

Yes, I will admit that I am indebted to C.S Lewis for the last bit with the Mermaids. And now we finally know what Emma's part will be in all this. The Mermaids are going to be playing a big part in AWE, and their story will ultimately involve the fate of Tia Dalma.

There is only one more chapter after this one, and it should be posted tomorrow. In the meantime, please drop a review.

Next chapter: For many of our main characters, Jack's passing has made the world a little less bright. But, when a chance is mentioned to bring him back and help comes from an unexpected quarter, it proves the old saying tru: every ending of an adventure, is merely the beginning of a new journey.


	48. Chapter 48: Adventure's End

Yes, it is here, the final chapter, the ending, well, sort of. As much as a middle part of a sequel can end. I will say nothing more beyond that I hope that you enjoy it.

Chapter 46: Adventure's End, Journey's beginning

No one who had first entered the swamp of Tia Dalma had wanted to come back. The eerie and spooky atmosphere, the stares from both the seen and the unseen, all combined to leave them with a decided aversion to that place, and they had all tried their hardest to forget it. However, fate would turn out to have other ideas. With the _Black Pearl_destroyed, Jack Sparrow dead, and the seas beginning to feel very small and dangerous, Tia Dalma seemed the only safe place for retreat. And that wasn't a comforting thought.

Nonetheless, to Tia Dalma's they went. And even as they entered into the swamp, there seemed to be a subtle change in the surroundings that made them at least mostly confidant that they were in the right place. People were standing waist deep in the water, as if waiting for them. They did not speak, but rather moved along with the boat, escorting them up the narrow channel. The further they went, the more people joined them, until they were surrounded. The faces were all somber and sad; some of them seemed to look at Marie especially, inclining their heads as they moved past, respect mingling with sadness.

As dusk fell, candles somehow appeared in the hands of each of the mourners, revealing them not to be real people as they had first suspected, but rather the shadows of spirits, for if the light fell on them in a certain way, their faces would flicker and fade in and out of view. It was sort of unsettling, but not necessarily frightening. And so, the lone longboat wound its way thought the channel, until at last it came to the small hut of Tia Dalma. The mourners closed in around them, the candlelight glowing gold all around the swamp, and somewhere, from a place they could not identify, a lone drumming intermingled with the chanting sounds of a wordless grief.

It reflected Marie's mood. She had moved beyond weeping, and had grown silent, not saying more than a few sentences the whole journey. She was so silent that the other survivors, Will especially, were more worried than if she had been in the grips of hysteria. Marie did not care, she felt numb and empty; she had never known such a feeling of all-consuming despair and grief. So much so, that nothing else really mattered. For Marie, the light had gone from the world, and now everything seemed dull and meaningless.

They rowed up the small dock. None of them said a word as they climbed up the small ladder and entered the hut of Tia Dalma. Marie could not help but remember that the last time they had been there, Jack had been with them.

Tia Dalma was waiting for them when they came in. Her face was somber and mournful. Before any explanation could be given, she held up her hand. "No words. I know already why you have come." She gestured for them to come in and rest, as offer that was gratefully, though wordlessly accepted.

Marie alone did not enter the right away. She stayed on the small porch, looking out at the mourners who still gathered in the water below, chanting to their unseen drum. Tia Dalma approached. "De pain which dis loss inflicts upon you Lady Sparrow is beyond any word or art of mine that can bring relief too. But you have borne it as well as a woman in your situation can."

Marie nodded absently. She had only half-heard the words of Tia Dalma, absorbed with watching the ghostly mourners. "Who are they?" She asked, he voice hoarse from the excess of her emotion.

"Dey are de shadows of de souls dat your husband touched in his life." She pointed to a group of silent mourners. "Dose are de ones dat Jack Sparrow set free in Africa, oders dere are, wid deir own stories, all of dem influenced in some way by your husband. Dey do you honor because you are his Lady and dey understand your sorrow."

Marie, strangely moved by this, though she didn't entirely understand it, turned towards the mourners and inclined her head, much as some of them had done earlier. The mourners below gave no visible or verbal sign that they had received this gesture of thanks, but their eyes showed that they understood.

Tia Dalma watched this before saying "Marie Sparrow," Marie turned to look at her, "do not assume that you are alone in your grief."

That lost cryptic statement brought an end to the conversation. Marie and Tia Dalma went back into the little hut, where the survivors from the _Black Pearl_ were sitting, each absorbed in their own private state of grief.

The minutes passed, nobody said a word. The only sound was that of Will throwing his knife repeatedly into one of the wooden tables. Tia Dalma disappeared into the back of the hut, and emerged sometime later, bearing a tray laden with numerous mugs.

She approached each of them in turn, Marie taking a mug of the hot, spiced liquid without a word. When Tia Dalma came to Elizabeth, she was met with half-hearted rejection of the offered drinks, but Tia Dalma said to her gently, "Against de cold, and de sorrow." Elizabeth, too exhausted and sad to argue, took one of the mugs without any further argument.

Tia Dalma knelt beside Will. She already knew part of the burden which he carried, but for now, she would give voice to only part of it. "It's a shame. I know you're t'inking dat wid de _Pearl_, you could have captured de devil and set free your fader's soul."

"Doesn't matter now." Said Will, in frustrated despair, "The _Pearl_'s gone, along with her Captain."

"Aye." Said Gibbs, who was on the porch just outside the hut, "and already the world seems a little less bright. He fooled us all right to the end, but I guess that honest streak finally ran out."

Elizabeth felt as if a heated knife had been twisted in her belly when she heard this. That honest streak had won out, with a little underhanded help on her part.

Gibbs had come back to the hut by this time. Being older than any of the others had made him able to bear the pain with something resembling composure. But he was still feeling the wound as deeply as any of them. "To Jack Sparrow." He said, as he raised his glass in a toast.

This loosened the tongue of all the others, as they spoke their own remembrances of the man who had been a part of all their lives, whether it was friend or enemy.

"Never another like Captain Jack." Said Ragetti, who had been sobbing pathetically for quite some time.

"'E was a gentleman of fortune 'e was." Concurred Pintel, whose emotions mirrored those of his close companion.

"He was a good man." Said Elizabeth.

"The best thing that ever happened to me." said Marie, last of all.

Will alone of the company did not say anything. The pain was yet to near for him. He drank in silence as did the others, all except Elizabeth, who brought the mug to her lips, but couldn't bring herself to drink, a wave of fresh sorrow washing over her, along with a guilt so intense that she could almost taste it.

Will noticed this, and he turned to look at both Marie and Elizabeth. Before him were two opposing portraits of intense grief. Marie's face was a blank mask of complete despair, and it seemed to be set in stone. Her posture was stiff and unmoving. Her eyes, normally the bright shifting colors between bright blue and green, were now dull and lifeless; countless voids that had no spark or light in them. Will never thought to have seen her like this, paralyzed with a grief too deep for words.

And then there was Elizabeth. Her face was roiling with more emotions than Will could count, and the raw agony of those emotions had clearly taken their toll on her. Her lovely face was streaked and lined with the trails of salt tears, and her eyes were sparkling with still more that had not yet fallen.

These two portraits of the women that he loved the most couldn't fail to move Will. He still could not deny the passion that he felt for Elizabeth. And whatever Marie knew or did not know about Jack and Elizabeth, she was suffering from his loss. Despite everything, Will couldn't stand to see the two of them like this. If there was anything he could do to relieve their suffering, than he would gladly undertake any danger. Regardless of what happened before, or what would happen afterward, he would attempt the impossible.

"If there was any way to bring him back." He stood and came forward, his voice earnest, pleading, "Marie, Elizabeth…."

Tia Dalma suddenly cut him off. She stepped forward and said, "Would you do it?" Her voice and manner had become excited, her eyes bright with a strange kind of excitement. She looked to Marie, to Gibbs, to each and every one them, laying down an ultimatum with her next words to which there could be only of two possible answers. "What would you, hmmm? What would any of you be willing to do? Would you sail to de end of de eart' and beyond to fetch back witty Jack and 'im precious _Pearl_?"

There was a long pause as each of them weighted the choice before them. Finally, Gibbs stepped forward and looked at the others. He didn't know what they were going to decide, but for him, there was no other choice. "Aye."

"Aye." Said Ragetti, catching onto Gibbs' spirit of determination.

"Aye." Said Pintel.

Even from off in the corner, the silent Cotton raised his mug and the colorful parrot perched on his shoulder squawked, "Aye."

Elizabeth, too, nodded, saying in a soft, but firm voice, "Yes."

Marie may have been the last to speak, but her mind was made up from the start. Wherever she had to go, whatever she had to do, she would do it if it meant that it could bring Jack back from a fate he did not deserve. "Aye."

Tia Dalma smiled, looking very satisfied. "All right, but if you go and brave de weird and haunted shores at worlds' end, den you will need a captain who knows dose waters."

And with that, she turned from them, looking at a flight of stairs that none of them had noticed before. At that very same moment, the sound of heavy footsteps began to descend the stairs. Mystified, they all got to their feet, crowding behind Will, all eyes fixed on the stairway.

For several long seconds, nothing could be heard but the descending footfalls. No one knew who those steps could belong too, none would even have been able to guess, but when the person suddenly appeared, it was the last person that any of them had ever thought to see again.

"So, tell me," said the familiar, gravelly voice, with an ironic tinge, "what's become of my ship?" And he bit at last into the sweet tartness of the apple that had so long been denied to him. The monkey jumped on his master's shoulder, shrieking his agreement to the words. And the supposed dead Captain Hector Barbossa laughed.

And so, the adventure of the Dead Man's Chest at last to a close, though there could be no doubt that the journey to Worlds' End and beyond had only just begun.

_To be continued…_

_The story will be concluded in Pirates of the Caribbean: At Worlds' End_

* * *

How's that for a dramatic ending. I don't think that any of us will ever forget that moment when Barbossa came back down those steps, returned from the dead. And now, it is time for the next adventure to begin. At Worlds' End is going to be something entirely new. Hopefully, because of the AU bits that I will be putting in, it will be like seeing the movie in an entirely new way. Again, may I just reiterate that James will be surviving, and have a much bigger part in the story than he did in the original. Look for the first chapter of that to be up in the next few days.

For right now, I want to thank once again all my readers and reviewers. It really depends upon all the people who read the stories who make the authors a success. Thanks for reading, and giving me the first story to ever break 150 reviews. I can't wait to hear what you think of At Worlds' End.


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